28. Reminiscence

28. Reminiscence

there’s this ache that permeates my days.

in rainy weather, sunny skies

pizza parties, long work nights

there’s an ache that won’t be satisfied by

anything but the draw of the past.

sometimes I’m arrogant enough

to think the sky is weeping for me

when it rains and I

cry alone

I weep for the sky, and

it weeps for me.

but a much bigger view reveals that

I am much too small

for something as big and blue to be crying for me

it’s not crying for you


but I am.

the sun shines and I think

of it shining when we

danced through the park just like a movie

like slow-motion laughter and feet in the pond

and forevers and nevers spilling out of our mouths

like a waterfall we couldn’t reign in

but ended up drowning us.

when the sun hides its face behind a mask of gray

I think of the days when we curled up inside

with hot chocolate and The Princess Bride on a small laptop screen

warm socks and warm hands

your hands in my hair, my hair in my face.

but how can the placement of

the sun

beat me like a slavedriver?

the sun is just a star, far

far away

and I have my own life now.

and I came to the conclusion

through growing strong and weeks

of weeping

that nothing weeps for me.

I am my own, and nature can do nothing

the sun just looks on me with apathy.

but I stay indoors just in case

I start to feel things

my room is cozy and almost

as warm

as the sun, or your arms

and it’s all that I need.

but then one day my armchair began to weep for me

as I sat in it

engulfed me in its arms until it was suffocating me

and it struck me like a passing thought, a simple “ah”

I realized that I couldn’t breathe.