They’re Not There
Dec 1, 2020
The person who once chased me
All the way out and down the street
Panting and sweating
To greet their lips with mine -
Well, where are they now?
If so much could change with time,
And that same person is
Imprisoned,
Locked away behind layers and layers
Of concrete memory
Seeking asylum in my quiet moments
Never again able feel the air of the morning
Getting ever colder
Then why do I bother checking
Over my shoulder