and I have not loved always

I continue to look back on the past few years of my life, and I'm not trying to be poetic, I really cant gather the words to give a proper description. I don't know if it matters to continuously go back to what was, regardless I cant seem to get past it. Its trivial, but its hard to know that so much time spent on people I loved, I sincerely loved

became dried skin scratched off their backs.

And they've washed me out

got stuck in the crevices like mildew

growing unnoticed

being stuck there is,

not for recognition,

but for understanding.

don't care about whats happened,

but the initial intent,

each take our course, thats expected.

expected more, because that is what you offered

loved and adored because you never bothered

got sick and decided too leave because you could only receive

this is so universal yet you are so minimal

maybe I switched eyes with a stranger the day we arrived from the west

maybe you were a hollow phantasm I could fill from the east

a shout I could silence with clasped hands

a wound I could seal with pursed lips

frustration to relieve with soft strokes

what did you do with my bits and pieces?

could you

layout the shards under the willow tree where we first made love

whisper the whereabouts to the wandering swallows

scribble a map in the soil of the azaleas

I'll walk and I'll look

I'll walk and I'll look

for you,

what you were,

the shards

I'll look.