If I shut my eyes tight enough,
sifting through all the memories
that I have forgotten about,
I catch a glimpse of you.
I catch a glimpse of what you
may have looked like.
What you may have been like.
What you might have been, before.
I can no longer recall the
gentleness of your voice, or if
it was ever gentle at all.
I’m losing pieces of you.
But if I squeeze my eyes shut,
and reach, reach for you,
reach out to the darkest parts of me.
I catch a glimpse of us.
— “You’re fading, and I’m not ready to let go”