February
(F. Galaz, 2021)
Here I am, sending whispers through the mist, calling out to memories you may have missed, inn a cry softened by the weight of your absence.
Where do you wander now, in dreams serene? Does my absence weigh as heavily as yours, unseen?.
The memory fades, like leaves in autumn’s breeze, once bright, now dimmed, like fleeting memories, I, too, lose my sparkle, in time’s gentle sway.
But this memory, fueled by your selfish flame, returns like seasons, never quite the same.
Some days it fights for life, burning bright, others, it fades, slipping into night, drifting away, taking all in its wake.
Your absence lingers, a wound unhealed, this solitude echoes, your presence concealed, and my heart, it seems, can’t let go of the past.
Yet in fleeting moments, oblivion nears, only to be swept aside, as your memory appears, as clear as February’s bloom, in its gentle embrace, still, I send whispers, in this lonely space.
Speaking through echoes, you may never hear, but here I am, in longing’s quiet veneer.
