Unfinished

You and me,
are an unfinished symphony.
(a bruised knee,
a spot weak,
tap and it falls,
a half turned key)


A page torn,
from the end of a book
leaving you teetering,
hanging on a hook.

Cause no one knows what happens in the end
and it feels like an arm you've lent.
Cause you can't really give it, but can miss it too
and it slowly but surely, turns blue

Remember?

I find memories
lying abandoned
scattered with
the wind of today
to the corners of
my mind.

I mind losing them
Leaving them unaffected
without affection

With remorse or
the promise of guilt
or even a wistful
smile and grin.

I find them untouched
yet they fade
exposed to the sun
Polaroids I made.

Bleached, bone
dry
of original emotion
yet they fill
me up
and scare me.

I find a life
I may never have
known
were it not for
these memory seeds
sown.