Shards of time

Shatter, broken monuments crumble.

Break what used to be complete,

Harden what used to be soft.

Why? Why do we have to get old?

Aging is hard.

Watching yourself from outside

Yourself

Not being yourself, being

Someone else. 

It’s hard.

Watching someone you love age is

Just as hard.

Remembering pieces of them

That aren’t there anymore,

Pieces they don’t even remember

In themselves.

But still, you try.

To pick up the pieces, and

Glue them back in place,

But they’re not as strong. 

They never will be as strong. 

It breaks again. 

Discouragement doesn’t push you away.

Trying hard not to lose them,

In their empty minds,

Their staggered breathing,

Their jerky movements. 

Trying to get through to them

In their complicated, empty minds,

Trying to find them in

The fallen rubble, among

All the devastation, the broken monuments,

the remnants of what was once complete,

The reliving of Pompeii, but this time,

It’s not just the architecture in flames.

Trying to call out

“I’m here, come back to me!”

They can hear you, your words slicing through

The ashy air like knives.

They watch you from behind destroyed concrete, they try to understand

What they are seeing.

They can’t. So they push it away, and 

Think about easier thoughts, simple things,

That don’t matter.

They disappointed you, and they know that.

Hiding behind their anger and faults, using 

Themself as a shield from the world,

But really, they’re stabbing themself with a sword. 

Ignoring their own broken monument,

Or maybe at the same time grieving in it,

Running and hiding from the calls from your loved ones,

From the world.

Or maybe chasing and seeking,

A new life.

One where the pain is gone,

Their mind is happy,

It’s easier to live,

Easier to think about, 

Than finding your way back to the life you have.