Greif: A Taste I Can't Get out of my Mouth
I pretend in both realities
You were once here,
but now you are not.
I’d like to think you’ve gone on a long vacation.
Four years have passed,
enough time for you to turn into a photograph.
Enough time for me to forget your face and the wrinkles that once decorated it.
I’ve aged considerably,
and even a photograph is a victim of time.
Your voice is now a relic covered in dust.
One that has been marred by lost time.
I keep retelling your stories in hopes that my brain hasn’t caught on to reality
I wait until night to see you in my dreams.
I pretend in both realities: that you are alive, and that I am okay.
Until one day, I will have dug so far into my memories that there is nothing left but misplaced nostalgia and a face that has become a puzzle I can’t fix.
I too, wish to be frozen in time.
"Until one day, I will have dug so far into my memories that there is nothing left but misplaced nostalgia and a face that has become a puzzle I can’t fix."
This really stuck out to me, and I think it's something I'll keep coming back to for a while. I also really like the reoccurring theme of photographs throughout the poem. They're something usually to preserve good memories but can become painful when part of the subject matter is no longer with us, whether it be a person or pet. Well done.