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Archives and Residues




It is the feeling that stops you dead in your tracks. It is the dream you wake up from and the dream you drift into, equal parts realization and shellshock. It is the feeling you get when you listen to those songs, the ones that bring you back to the memories of when you held them in your arms and fell asleep; breathing in sync. It is the emotions that let your tears escape when you fight so hard to hold them back. It is the love that meant the world once, yet one that hurts the very world of you now.


It’s the heart that beats to breathe away,

The thoughts that fail to go away.

It’s the sound of their voice that makes you say,

That it's all but simply meant this way.

It’s the pictures that remind us,

Grieving emotions and the weight of the past behind us.

It’s the love that came but didn't stay,

The one you fought so hard for,

Only for it to wither and decay.

It’s this heart you have, the one that feels;

The one which breaks and makes you kneel.

It’s the days alone when you most miss,

Their love,

Their touch,

The way they kiss.

It’s your heart that you have, but their heart that you miss.


So you take the leftovers, the aftermath, and you make the best of it. Hidden away, but not forgotten. Out of sight, yet very much alive in the back of that head of yours. It’s weird how you reminisce despite the pain. It was meant to end and so you stash away, the many pictures of them, the letters they wrote, and the love they gave you.


They’re not the one,

But then who really is?

Someone that meets in the middle,

To share a life built beyond love,

Beyond dreams and hopes,

A life of their own making to be brought into your own,

That is love,

Isn't it?


They will always be a part of you, they meant too much and you loved too much for that to not happen… but they have made the way for the other… the right kind of others. So you archive the past and live with the present, seeing in yourself the best of yourself, that passed through this crucible.


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