You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness
I read back over old words I wrote the years before,
as memories of a different face inflicting the same wound
keeps drifiting through.
‘cause that’s it.
you’re now just one more memory that I want to relive,
that time will soon choose to replace,
even as the clock slows when we feel we cannot wait.
But you’re so much better at letting go,
on a scale it means what I always feared.
I wish I could just turn it off like the light that went out of my eyes,
my glow, everything about me that people know.
Each word merely a bandaid to stem a severe wound.
As I long for the day that time will leave me with just another scar
to compliment the one I already have resting upon my heart.
