Forgive me Peter,
tensions blare like flames of a heater.
You said, that the time’s ill,
But it came off as your free will.
Unbeknownst, we were put to withstand the test of time,
Did you really give up on us in our prime?
What once was as bejewelled as a cosmic star,
Is now drowning in the wine at the bar.
The story of us,
preserved in cedar closets
Accessed by the one left behind,
a tortured marionette.
Denial disguised as hope,
the thought of when you return.
But now you’re 25 and farewell’s all I wrote,
A void engulfs my radiant glow,
I watch my fantasy wither, then burn.
Acceptance is moving on,
But pain strikes deep, as the new day is born.
It’s time I realise,
The shelf life of those fantasies have expired,
My life - a tragic satire.
The feeling of falling in love, but suddenly it does not feel the same. Even though you are “in love” something is different. Then the other twig snaps and the person leaves and you keep hoping they’ll be back but with time you realise you were coping and living for the hope of it all