In my memory you appeared different
I can recall your face – partially
your eyes seem tired,
your hands appear so much older
than what I remember,
have they been holding on too
tight to your friend ?
hand fisted, you’ve found
it hard to resist it –
“dear memory don’t fail me
you are all I have”
I can’t remember what I was,
I can remember what I thought I’d be
at some point it meant the world to me,
dreams as wounds – they fester, gallant
like a last grasp gesture,
all my aspirations
seem void of inspiration,
I have settled with my friend,
through time I have become weak,
he’s the only one I can depend – apparently
it’s a means to an end
“memory are you awake” ?
I can’t remember the time it takes
to discover true self,
is despondency a cause of neglect
or an effect of staying constant
pushing towards the pulling
of ones actions,
a life riddled with spiritual transactions
which begs me to wonder,
are we guided ?
is guidance within ?
come now and pay for each sin one at a time
is spirituality within ?
come now and help me find him,
my friend,
he’s the last in line,
untrusting at your lowest point
the answer to self decline,
on a knife edge is where you’ll find
your friend.
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