In my naïveté, I thought of you only as a hindrance
Repression and remission —
And as the season’s whisk away, I am swayed by remembrance.
Of a time distant and gone when you were still present
Instead the echo of an inner drop scales the empty(ness);
Resonates to the core, are you even sentient?
Purgatory of the mind
A life – just half, cannot be
While the years are not unkind,
Your absence means I’m half of me.
With such rigor I drove you out
A buffer from the brain and to the heart.
The self, so frail, subsides to erosion –
A person if only half alive – when having drove away,
the “unwanted,” the emotion
© Luis Valencia