Once there was an If
That wanted to meet a Then
But didn’t know when
And after many nots, no’s, and simply cant’s
If struggled to have anymore
Wait for Then
Because If and only If
Knew that Then
Would be how
If became within Life
But the more If
Encountered Else
If realised there’s still Life
Waiting for Then or not.
Society says I only have so much time
Biology sagely agrees
But Life
And Will
And Experience
They keep asking me to wait
For better.
And I?
I seesaw between hope and despair
I venture and retreat
I try and falter
And still try
I will do what i can
Until i can’t no more.
i know you search me with your eyes
and wonder why my love waxes and wanes
why i accept your love with a haunted wounded wavering
…
…the past has passed and the scars have all but healed…
…the past has passed and its lessons learned…
…the past has passed and all those who did not stay are not missed…
and yet i and my soul remain in the clutches of its grasp….
to envy the sorrows
that have comforts
*
to question the cares
of those who have
ones to save them
*
to search for a
smaller piece
of a gauzy dream
all glimmering with hope
one where joy
is still buoyant
and ignorant
of the troubles
that follow
***
to deny that a whimper
was heard where a
roar was thoroughly expected
*
to seek the words
that were heard in the heart
but were left unsaid
the air still silent
and stuck within
the breath
wishing to remain
inside
and end what all
it had started
***
and to forget what
hope there ever
was of returning
to that little
sad pit of denial
***
i must find myself..
within the very mazes,
of your past tense.
whatever was remembered ago.
i must find myself…
where i did exist
where i wondered and whispered:
think of me.
i am no stranger.
i knew you.
is that not enough
to find where i never was
until now.
“the people blur and part”
and i await for the words to come
a frantic search
through many no longer sticky notes
bent and creased and come apart
with scribbles, waves and loops
half brackets, slashes and arrows
and lines wobbily crossed out
all tossed aside for that one
where all that has stuck
to memory
are “the people blur and part”
a thunderous sound
the platform trembles
a whoosh of stale and mechanical air
an impatient rush, quick shuffles and speakered din
all scattered now
and stuck between the tracks
intotheindigo 