Wednesday, September 28, 2016

Remnants


Remnants.
I am still haunted by the remnants of our memories,
infested by their dusts latching on to my skin,
and blemished by the scabs and scars of my old wounds.
I have been refusing to remember you,
but your image is a fact hidden in my subconscious,
and a glaring truth in my dreams at night.
And now I have to face the remnants,
the pieces of what used to be and will never be,
wisps of the smoke of joys and sorrows,
and a speck of what once was a true love.
Remnants, which I am glad that just are,
for I know that soon,
these dusts will be blown away,
the scars will solely be patches that'll add to my beauty,
and the memories will fade like colors in photographs.
I am sure that soon,
my heart will be again clean and new
for a kind of love that will stay whole forever.