fleeting.

Written upside- down in a journal on a drunken Saturday evening in less than five minutes.

fleeting.

like what?

a feather in the wind?

no… no. that doesn’t give you enough importance.

how about a…

or rather, the landscape in my rearview mirror..?

you, at a stand- still in the past,

slowly dissolving in the distance?

no. that is not right either,

since i still can’t bear moving away from you,

that can’t be right.

but this is where we have a problem.

because my memory of you is fading-

tucked in the sweet, simple embrace of summer.

you held me once, is that not true?

and i, you?

really?

i cannot fathom.

now you are just some concept

that everyone else but myself can grasp

because you all can go to parties together

while i drink alone

and think

about how you are a thing i have known

every

single

inch

of,

from your skin

to your soul.

but that was then

and this is now

and now is the past which is

fleeting and

gone and

never-

more.

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