holding on to the past

By terris crimson

I can't move on,
I'm like a picture,
a simple moment frozen in time,
Never moving forward,
never progressing,
clinging on to the memories,
trying to get a tight grasp on ghost of the past,
no matter that they are transparent,
it seems the more times the phantoms escape my grip,
it only motivates me to try and grasp on tighter,
its like a noose thats around my throat, 
thats just loose enough to keep me from asphyxiation,
but too tight to allow escape,
I wonder that if I spend a day too long clinging to the phantom memories,
will my entire life pass me by in the blink of an eye,
so that I would be nothing more than a phantom myself???,
simply an entity to you,
an old echo of an empty tune,
that bounces through the hollowed walls of the haunted past that was us,
the evergreen bloom of potential love withered all too quickly,
snuffing the flame that was us,
the haunting lullaby of all that was  us,
days turned to months in minutes,
and before I knew it our hour had passed us,
and I was simply left with the aftermath,
of all the feelings for me that never were for you,
frozen with the backlash of being trapped in the past moment,
as you now live in the moment in the present,
for how can I move on when my heart still is frozen,
not in the cold but with time,
oh what I would do to smash that clock that,
ticked,
              tocked,
ticked,
our precious moments away,
just so I would not still be here listening to its chiming,
those bells drive me crazy,
they continue to ring,
at the hour of thirteen,
and yet as it has been long since past the moment it first struck the accursed number,
not even the minute hand has yet to pass for myself,
while both hands move for you,
perhaps too quickly than I am comfortable with,
and yet it is out of my hands,
as it is with the hands of fate and time,
as you continue living your life,
your fate being within your two hands as you shape your own clock,
just as I am still holding onto the past with mine,
all I wonder now,
is when will I wash away the past,
so that my clean hands may reach foward into the future.




 

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Copyright 2015 terris crimson
Published on Friday, July 17, 2015.     Filed under: "Personal" and "Poetry"
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Comments on "holding on to the past"

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  • sTr8-jAcKeT On Tuesday, December 4, 2018, sTr8-jAcKeT (796)By person wrote:

    I hope you're still around... Truly. What a wonderfully envisioned descriptor. Time inside suspended animation, beautifully chilling.

  • terris crimson On Tuesday, March 12, 2019, terris crimson (207)By person wrote:

    I am. I appreciate the compliment. It was written about a poet on this site actually.

  • veingo On Friday, July 17, 2015, veingo (556)By person wrote:

    I wish I could put my arms around you again. ^V^

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