my wall is lined with
polaroids.
lapses in time
when things were
temporarily good.
replaying those exact
moments over and over,
remembering how much time
i wasted on something
that stole pieces of me
until i wasn't me anymore;
and for what?
a few seconds of bliss
that i would desperately try
to hold onto,
knowing that the feeling
would slip out of my hands
like sand in an hourglass-
counting down the seconds
until i was losing myself
again.
YOU ARE READING
If Only You Knew
Poetry|| poetry for the people i've loved, hated, lost & found || lower case intended. highest rankings: #4 in poetry / #1 in unsaid
