A poem for what is left of a heart

Made of sticks and stones

photo credit: my bloody valentine via photopin(license)

Someday I will remember everything,
But until that day I will try to forget.
I will try to make the memory of your face
Disappear from the forefront of my mind.
Your image will no longer haunt my every waking moment.

I will force you to consist of only shadow and mists.
I will consign you to the sleepless hours, night terrors
And those unsatisfactory fragments of dreams.
I will take the mementos of our life together
And burn them within the bonfire of my soul.

Yet before they bury these fragile bones
Before the end of this unhappy season
I will remember everything.
Because you’ll always be the pulse
Beating within this remnant of a heart.

© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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