bebang

with every day that passes i can only bring back a fraction of the fraction of your face. my thoughts of you are becoming a void - formless dark matter. grasping, clutching at your remaining existence returns hollow memories. with each detail requiring longer moments to capture, lengthening like afternoon shadows, i can only think of you, but this won't be forever.

Day by day, Layer by layer, Walls rise. I now face A three-sided room Standing On a once Free area called you. To reach you I scale your walls. With each step I slip, I slide, Unable to grasp Any remaining part Of you. Every fall Is a reminder I can never have You. Back.

Quietly waiting, Uncomplaining, You sit your life away. The rocking chair's swings Mock your heavy breathing. Your thin body Too weak to stand up. I could only stare At your face: Complacent eyes. Deep lines. A tired smile. A decade of giving up on life. The rocking chair has stopped moving. Happy birthday.

apollo has done his task. gone are the reds and yellows, darkness has taken over light. she looks up with a heavy heart: another day has passed. arms wrapped around herself, she makes her way home, each stride held back by misery but pushed forward by hope. a glance once more at the sky, that which mirrors her shriveled soul. a solitary star. maybe he's looking at it the way she is.