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Old Gray
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359 Pine
Ailments become fragments of my imagination;
I am encumbered by nothing.
Hands in hand with a ghost of your former self,
someone I once held away from the torments of situation;
no longer am I strong enough- another voice has taken over,
controlling, binding, leaving the person I am- fucking helpless,
awaiting its next consensus.
A face that is not there taunts me,
breathing the same air that she held in her lungs,
breaking, for it all seems so familiar.
I have been lost and faded into this place,
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waking only to find it still surrounds me,
blotting out the pain but with it, the comfort.
For I was a being existing but absent of life,
selective thoughts showing only bliss.
Sifting through tarnished images of a past you were a part of,
mind blanketed by memories- the ghost of your former self,
someone I once held and time stood still.
Time stood still, at least to us.
At least to us.
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