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Of Age

The light breeze brushing the skin,
Eyes staring out the window at nothing,
The hum of the city that is a hum no more,
The ears escaped to seek sounds of shores,
There is no noise in the thoughts that came,
A remark on the irony of time is made,
The pictures are old, faces in them are young,
A wonder as to whom those faces now belong,
As the piano plays the eyes see a montage,
Tears find their way across a cheek,
Echoes heard from memories gone,
Wishes are made to return to the past.
Today will be a memory again,
May be full of hope, or of regret,
Arms searching to hold them,
Hands wanting to make the future,
The mind a fallen leader with wisdom.
Happiness is sought, had less often,
Some understood it was not to be found,
But accepted.

Made to wonder,
What I wanted of life,
What it wanted if me,
Wanting more is good,
Appreciating what is had is too.
Lost in thought of what will happen,
It may be contemplated upon,
Letting the thought control one is futile,
Time occurs as a series of wins and loses.
A mess of living things.
On the edge of remembrance,
A photograph I saw,
It brought back memories,
Memory, memory.
Memories of a me who feels like someone else.
I know it was me,
So I try to trace myself,
Back to when I was
In this memory of light,
Following myself to now,
I find I was never lost.
Past, present future,
Love, loss, regret,
Hope, happiness,
Simple, it has been so simple.
Made to wonder,
You’ll find, you’ve been at your best place,
All that ever mattered was being content.

memories often consume our minds and trick us into confusing the past with the present. sometimes, the memories we long for the most slowly wither away as time spirals into the future. for me, my memories are an escape to let go of reality and forget about my current issues for a little while.

Birthdays were never great days for me, and I appreciated how you didn’t celebrate my birthday the actual day it was on, or how you didn’t turn it into a giant thing. Just a simple night over at your house. It’s one of my favorite memories by far, I’ve spent hours burning each image and detail permanently into my mind.

You got me one of the best gifts I’d ever gotten. A sketchbook, the pages were off white but the perfect texture and thickness, the covers made of beautiful leather and you had laced ribbons into the binding spirals. It was perfect. Probably a bit more than the average sketchbook, I’m sure. Then afterwards we watched my favorite movies, laughed and cried, ran around like crazy people, and had fun.

I miss those lovely days.

They sat close on the floor, he held her hand… Hearing her discomfort, her problems, his heart melted like gold, his heart shattered into pieces like glass, it sunk to the deepest depths of the ocean of shared grief… He understood her words, wished he could do something to make it all go away, like a fairy tale… But alas, this wasn’t one. Her tears hurt him, in a way that his helplessness poked in his heart and his mind ran and searched for the answer it could not find.
Seeing her tears, he could bear no more. He hugged her tightly, held her head to his chest, rocked her back and forth, slowly, trying to calm her down, and tried to tell her, even though he knew not how, that everything was going to get better. He rocked her back and forth, shushing her light sobs, she sitting in his lap, her arms around him. He knew she held him for support, not just physically, but against all the load of the world, and he knew at any cost, he could not risk faltering even for the blink of an eye.
He kissed her forehead, and sang a lullaby, still rocking back and forth, slowly put her to sleep. He held her tight, like his holding her so would protect her from any oncoming trouble in the world, and somewhere he felt that she felt the same. As she slept finally, the embers of a dying fire, the slight frown and the slow sobs and remaining drying path of tears, her problems seemed to slowly melt away… After what seemed forever, his eyes seemed to drift slowly to sleep, with her still in his arms, his gaze still on her face, which now seemed like there never existed any bad in the world, like the place of her dreams was her refuge against them all. The last thought he had was, how could it be so for anyone? Why was life so cruel to his Darling, his Love? All she ever wanted, was to be loved… He knew, he would always love her… Always… an in the dream of a place where the eternal sun shone onto them, where there existed to troubles, no fears, he awoke.