All I see
Are moments
Frozen in time
All I hear
Are the muted tones of our past
Bringing wisps of your voice into my present
All I taste
Are the bitersweet saline tears
Trailing down in the aftermath
All I feel
Are the almost tangible ghosts
Leaving ice cold gusts in their wake
All I smell
Are the remnants of you
Hiding in the corners where we used to reside
All I have left
Are still-lifes
Never quite capturing the essence of you.
YOU ARE READING
Muddled
PoetryA collection of (ish) poetry for 2019. I guess this is the physical display of my muddled thoughts thorughout the year. I hope they make sense to someone one day. Enjoy, I guess.
