Love & the Lack Thereof



here I am

desperately trying to salvage the remnants of a dream too good to be true-

of artifacts from past memories-

from the consuming fire of oblivion.

the bystanders and responders tell me to leave it behind,

to save myself from the fire,

but how could I

if parts of me are contained in those memories?

some days it feels like it’s there,

or so I think,

just like victims of injuries that have caused loss of limbs:

they still feel the limb’s presence,

even though it has long been gone.

– c.g.


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