Slow Ascension

Memories are the hardest part.

It takes one thing,

That is all

Just one push,

To make me fall

 

There I am again,

At the bottom of this frigid lake,

Thinking once again,

Of how it all could have been fake

 

A smell that reminds me of your hair,

A gait that seems so familiar,

Just brings back into my mind, a question:

Just how exactly was this fair?

 

Now I’m left hollow,

Ghosts of you all around,

Picking up the pieces of my heart

From this cold unfeeling ground

 

I take the pieces into my hands,

And cradle them to my chest,

Perhaps for now I’ll take a break

And let my wounded soul rest

 

I turn then and pick up

The pieces of the life I’d planned,

They seem so fragile now,

Barely wisps of smoke in my hand

 

I let them fall back to the ground,

To coil in unspecific strands

And turn back to my heart

My mind already full of new plans

 

I cast my heart into the stars,

Giving it to the sky for it to hold,

As I float back to the surface once more,

To see what the new one will unfold