Another Autumn day and I’m trapped in an eternity of memories of you. I’ll kill time, until I get it right. And my heart will stumble over each beat, exhausted.
I can’t pin-point the exact place or moment I fell in love with you. But I will replay the parts I remember best, and that will have to be enough. And right before our story ended, I set fire to myself.
So for now, I’ll grow mad with my borrowed time, laying in the memories I’ve tossed about my floor. Like old photo albums, I’ll pick through each. The short clips that haven’t yet fallen through the cracks. And these clips are paned with conviction. And when I’m done, I’ll collect them from the scattered mess I’ve made once more and put them aside. I’ll do this in hopes of letting them collect dust. In hopes I wont pull them back off the shelf and drown in them.
There has to be something I missed, a reason I was the one worth leaving.
All I know, is my thirsty heart and my restless mind found shelter in you. I wish I’d known sooner; I was skating on thin ice. You were jerking the wheel and now we’re so far off path, I can no longer see the road.
No matter how I try to place the pieces, they will never fit perfectly together again. I will never feel normal again, but I will never be entirely sure of what normal feels like to begin with.
So if I’m stuck here in this limbo, of constant reminders and failed attempts, I’ll find other ways to bind my time.