The Places We Were

I don’t hear your voice anymore

Nor do I catch myself catching your face in the crowds.

I left an impression on you

While the memory you etched in me dissipates.

And yet,

I can still recall the way to your house,

Perched on top of the hill,

Reminding me of things gone by.

Perhaps you remember too,

Which is why you visit me

In the in-between world of dreams.

Hoping against hope that you can find a way back

To who we were.

To the stories we told ourselves about the future

And to something that could never be.

Because that restaurant we loved closed,

That park with the lake outgrew us,

And the house that we built fell apart.

And yet,

A part of me searches for it in the dark,

For that place calls to me as well,

Whispering that all things are possible

When I lay myself to sleep.

 

 

 

 

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