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Click hereTime Does Not Heal
They Lied
Time scavenges on your memories, mocking them.
It feeds on confusion with a vampire intensity, unwelcome, unbidden.
A constant unrelenting process that bleeds in your mind.
Whispering forgotten lines from conversations unremembered,
A plague of dreams that wakens you half asleep, to recall their voice, their touch,
Vast plains of air without them
Time is a wave before death.
It is an opportunist playing with you.
Brief respite before despair, each a hell not to be compared.
Time does not heal,
Healing soothes, like a nurses hand on feverish skin.
Time is a cesspit filled with hopes unfulfilled
An ever widening chasm between you and them
the physician must assume control. TK U MLJ LV NV
Beautifully written and very eloquent. I felt every emotion that was being conveyed. You are so very talented.
Your poem touches someplace inside that isn't often allowed touch.
I'm blown away by your poem and your talent with words. You've taken a painful subject and turned it into bittersweet art.