“Years cannot move;
Nor Death’s disorienting scale
distort…”
– Gwen Harwood
I’m finding myself mourning the past, neglecting the present and worried for the future. Instead, I’m stuck in my head as my surroundings pass me like a movie scene that I’m merely viewing on a screen. The only reminder of my presence is the feel of wind on my skin, keeping me grounded but somehow never blowing me away. So I run to the ocean, where the breeze is strongest and the drops of the ocean are swept towards me with it. I stopped shaving my legs so the hairs sway against my skin, each as little reminders that I am here. The past is gone, but that’s okay. Nothing, not even time or Death, can take away memories. They are yours.
But then again,
Never is a really long time.
I miss you.
R.I.P.
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