Etched Into the Past


I look into the sadness of my mind from yesterday,
and my thoughts from then remind me that they’re never far away.
I close my eyes and scream until I cannot hear a sound,
but no one else can hear me and I cannot turn around.

The past is written, deep engraved into foundation’s stone.
I cannot move the mountain when I try it on my own.
Only time can heal me, with its waters deep and wide,
cutting through the edges of the past from the inside.

I want to build a castle where there once was nothing there.
I’m pulling stones from nothingness and mortar from thin air.
I’m gathering the pebbles from a brook I call the sea.
But the currents, swiftly flowing like the waves are drowning me.

I don’t know how to build a life when all the past has gone.
I’m making my decisions, never knowing if they’re wrong.
I’m figuring it all out as I go; I’m moving on.
And I realize I’ve been waiting here, forgotten, far too long.



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