What to do with this feeling,
this bittersweet sensation
knotting unspeakable words beneath my throat.
To savour the moment
and hope it lasts long enough,
or to refrain because we know how it ends.
I’m scared of these good feelings,
the thought of the inevitable rends my heart from within;
because in the end, you will leave — they all did.
I hate sweet memories,
they’re all just wonderful people
that have become only a whim;
friends whose names are but echos
in the distant corners of one’s mind
— the thoughts of whom make us blush
and remind us of the good ol’ days.
I fear you will become one such memory,
I know you won’t be here forever,
I can’t imagine how I’d manage your absence.
Don’t leave, ever… Promise?
✍️ De-paule, 2017