"Fictional Reunion"
Somewhere,
I tread a little harder than perhaps was taught to me how to do.
Somehow,
I let the years ease by without any inkling,
of just what all of this would come to mean,
after all was said,
and after all was over with.
Sometimes,
I can see you in my head,
a dancing dervish of "what could have been",
and I go quiet,
in the midnight of my afternoons.
Somewhere,
there are photographs of you, in boxes, on some shelf.
Somehow,
they crawl, and claw, their way up and out into the light of day,
never stopping to ask my memories how they feel,
never glancing backwards to the time when they were made.
Sometimes,
I ache for those times before now,
when I had no knowledge of men and their designs,
and I go quiet,
my innocence as dead as you now have become.
To a world that is ever-moving,
and a line of slobbering fools who are ever pushing,
my missing of you is only matched
by the unshakable reality I never got to say goodbye...
-Written for my mother