person from the past

so can you ever be free from

those whom you thought you

did your best to leave in the

past? 

certainly only senility may be

compassionate enough to

wipe the slate clean,

but what about those who have

gone, or who were shoved off

by you yourself,

in a moment of weakness,

in a moment of hopelessness,

in a moment of passionate

youthful

dismay,

all knotted up like stressed-out

muscles?

for we both know,

you & i,

that there are no second chances in

this thing &

we will all be dead so fast

that to cling onto something so far

gone,

seems so irrelevant now,

but in the moments of deepest

depression,

in the moments of aging bewilderment,

further stress & illness,

all those who revealed themselves

to be sympathetic to our cause,

to be

nice to us, in the very least,

come pulsating vibrantly to the

forefront of the mind &

when we reach out with our

fingertips,

needing to speak only a few words,

needing to make some sort of

connection

with someone with whom we

thought we had done something

right,

in the midst of this horribly indifferent

&

utterly brief

ridiculousness,

we’d be lucky to hold that dream in the

recesses for more than a couple minutes

after waking up in the

morning.