on this very day, i am a symphony roaming the early evening’s streets; too quiet to be heard, present enough to be noticed by those who listen close enough.
i am the pull of a full moon in an early december’s winter. a wave crashing on the insides of a fragile being’s soft skin, begging to be free. drowning thus streets.
i am the realization that the once was warm fires of a young love has turned into mere ashes.
i am what’s left of you; what you left right there, behind you.
but it’s alright, i’m satisfied.
i’m okay with being just a part of your journey, in an aspect, in some way.
i’m still me; but also you.
i am what was.
a gentle breeze pushing you to move forward so go on; i’ll also brush right through you.
it’ll all be,
what once was; and what will come again, to be.