Poetry for thought

title: Still

I feel like I am yours, still.

Not like a commodity,

But like you-know-parts-of-me-that

I-have-forgotten,

Parts of me that are hiding today.

A pinch of my personality,

That only you saw, then, and only

You can revive now, maybe.

Makes sense? Shall I continue?

I feel like I am yours, still.

Like the word still, in still water,

Water that stays still

Even while the sun eats it up in summer,

Still lingering and feeding organisms.

Yours, mine, ours, are the

Stories that need telling, lingering, eating, feeding

Wait, vocabulary makes no sense right now.

It’s a word jumble, a crossword, falling out of my tired heart,

Are you with me, still?

Nostalgia is a funny thing, isn't it?

A show reel of hazy memories, ideas,

Thoughts that need re-writing, re-imagining
Can you help me find the cracks?

The cracks that sent me, spiralling,

Through a memory, a sound, I keep
Wandering, like a fool, searching, breaking,

Is the map lost too? Do you have it, still? Maybe.

Are we at the end now?

I feel

Like

I

Am

Yours,

Still.

Even when the weaves of time

Have changed everything and nothing at the same time.