I cry out to the past in vain, wishing I could bring it back – but it’s gone. It whispers through my dreams and floats around me in memories and smells, but there’s nothing left to hold.
They say sooner or later, the past catches up with you, but the past just seems to drift further away from me, frozen in a moment I’ll never get back – doomed to replay in my mind like a record on repeat.
The past is stuck in place – haunting me with dead eyes staring out of photographs, and movements of strangers on the street that walk just like you. I hear you in supermarket aisles and in my own head, laughing at me, knowing I am always one step behind and one second too late.
If only I could reach out and grab hold of what I need, just one more time, in a place far from here… But instead, you’re just another story I can’t tell anymore.