What I cannot touch, remains a memory. I am blinded by an imagined light. A remembrance of what can never be.

What I cannot tough, remains a memory, I am blinded by an imagined light. A remembrance of what can never be

You and I
Again and again
Always almost
Never enough.

- A world of almosts

What no one ever told me was that sometimes ‘time’ only adds layers to the wounds and if you scratch off the dust years later, you will still find him in your blood and flesh, residing in a vacant house that you thought had no tenants.
Time.
They never said that time only teaches us regrets.

Maybe I was destined to forever fall in love with people I couldn’t have. Maybe there’s a whole assortment of impossible people waiting for me to find them. Waiting to make me feel the same impossibility over and over again.

You think being dead inside is bad until someone brings you back to life and stabs you in the chest without the intention of killing you.