Who knew that only a moment could spark a thousand memories into existence,
Where ghosts start crawling above their grave.
A simple touch, and the goosebumps stir, but here I am embarrassingly focused on trying to remember his gaze.
The way it felt when he turned to me, his sight made me feel naturally beautiful in my own skin,
I’m trying to remember that feeling, but as minutes pass, I dreadfully realize how long it has been.
The comfort when I felt safe in his arms, feeling the heat that electrified our souls.
The simple conversation that lifted our spirits, the laughter, but now I’m left with only wanting more.
A blissful summer, a teenage dream, carried on into the deadly night.
As the sun rises, a pulse awakens, a fear begins, how could it be so wrong when it feels so right?
Now, alone, I understand my disease. Only 24 hours, and I’m trying to make it last.
I cannot decide, and so I wonder: Is it eternity, if you’re living in the past?
Poem by Andrea Blythe