Some Days

Writing away the grief

Some days you are a distant memory

Like an aging bruise, light blue and yellow

Only painful if I press down and linger

Most days I don’t

I move on to other thoughts

Discomfort abated

Some days you are thriving

Like a throbbing headache behind my eyes

Like a toe stubbed against the bed

Unwilling to be ignored

Demanding attention

Some days I forget

That there was ever a world in which our stars crossed

And like a time traveler, I visit that world

Deep in my dreams where my will can be defeated, and my memories take over

Some days

I carry a heavy ache of guilt

And my shoulders, not load bearing

Want to give up under the weight

Of words and feelings, both spoken and not

And like a paper house, I crumble

Waiting for a new day

Most days

I wander

Weaving between the other days

Reliving and forgetting

Remembering and suppressing

Wearing memories of you

Like words on the tip of my tongue

Almost there

But evading

E s c a p i n g

Forming their own string of thoughts

In another world, on another day