Years passed, and moments came.
Bittersweet memories were replaced;
sweeter memories replaced them.
In time, we fell apart—
failed ourselves and each other,
fell in parts. Broken we became,
as broken as we were.
With time, I came to my senses, to wonder,
to ponder on the time we passed—
on the now catatonic pictures in my mind
of the once cathartic feeling
of holding you in my arms.
And I came to my senses,
maybe soon enough, maybe too late.
But the saying goes, “It’s better late than never.”
That the time we spent—no,
I know it wasn’t wasted,
because it was time we spent
while I was wasted on you.
Imperfect as it may be, imperfect as my memory picture of you and me.
But it doesn’t need to be perfect to be as sweet as you always were to me.
And as you’ll allways be-
My deer paralyzed by brightness,
You shine throughout the darkness
Imperfect ender of my loneliness
My neverender lovely mess.