I would be when unraveling,
threads spilling and whipping
violently in the cold wind
each one a contained frame in time.
You may not be able to still them
long enough to truly see into all of me,
the stories you’ve written behind my eyes,
prologues and chapters you believe
I never held close enough to memorize.
I’ve kept them entangled inside,
scenes filling every chamber,
epilogues that split me into cracks and shards,
passages in between the grazing whispers.
Even while remaining intangible now,
sensations hands can never know
the bare textures of again,
each one is potent, each one is dangerous,
able to blaze through or be ice in my veins.
I wasn’t what you thought
I would be when sacrificing,
cables meeting and flashing
violently in the wind,
each one the strong and weak
contained fragments time will unearth.
You may not be able to still them
long enough to see what you’ve meant to me,
see the stories you made behind my eyes,
the bridges and oceans you thought
I never cared enough to cross.
I’ve kept each memory contained,
tethered to the darkest chambers along my heart,
longings that were the prologues to love made
and every whispered promise in between.
Even when remaining as unfinished passages,
the intangible flashing sensations never replicated,
each one is potent, each one is fleeting,
each one is a ghost navigating through my veins
Before I unravel and show you
what I really am for the last time.
