Seconds turns to minutes,
which then turns to hours.
Hours turns to days.
Then weeks,
and before you know it,
a month has fled and the pain won't get easier.
Your voice is faint,
distancing itself from my memory as the days go by.
Fear washes over me.
What will this mean?
Forgetting.
Losing your voice when it has been your memory that's been keeping me together this entire time.
What if my memory slips and I can't hear it at all?
What will I say to myself?
I'm wandering an open field of decisions with no thoughts of where to go or who to turn to.
My vision of myself becomes more of a distant memory.
And I am engulfed in a whirlpool of emotions of not knowing the individual who possesses my body.
My body and heart are a temple and that temple is slowing crumbling beneath my own fingers.
Slipping through the cracks of not knowing right from wrong,
left from right,
yes from no.
Tiring days and restless nights,
when will they ever change?
When will this get better?
When will I get better..?
A poem dedicated to my beloved best friend and now guardian angel, Tiana. <3