what my problem is

is that time takes real moments

and throws them into a past like an

anchor that falls over you and keeps you

there in a history caking over in dust, stuck, stuck, stuck and 

it keeps moving forward and you are

getting smaller in the distance and

I was speaking to you then shouting at you then

calling as loudly as I could but

I don’t know if you can hear me when I

see the dust on the leafs on a tree that is

already taller than me and 

 you are not here to settle me to tell me that you

hear me that you

understand that you 


that everything will be okay. When my memories of you are

only memories of memories and I remember my memory of you sitting there right there but

what did you say?

and if I stand where you stood will I hear you?

and you picked up that guitar and played the intro to Metalica

and you smiled and you hugged me goodbye there

in a tshirt that i still wear but soon it will be worn and then what.

What happens to you when you are completely gone?

where will the love and the peace and the happiness you 

made go? it is not Fair it is not right you should have been 

thirty five tonight and this world, this world keeps turning like

its not the end of the world but

it is. 

It Is. 

I miss you





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