(cel) ....Memories...Die Slowly

Poem By (brief renderings) Joe Fazio

When you died...it was not at
that moment, that you were
completely loss to me.

For death...is arrived through one
forgotten memory at a time.

When I left the cometary and came
home, you were still there. Your being...
your laughter...your love...filled our home.

I went to the closet...reaching out...and wrapping
my arms around your clothes. Your scent...
you...were still in them. Slowly, I slumped
to the floor. Seated and hunched over
your clothes, with my arms still wrapped around
them. Wept, as my body ached to hold you just
once again. Just one more time, to kiss
your lips and feel your love.

Nightfall. I lay upon our bed. I could
feel you there. Fighting back the thought,
'how long...how long before I would no
longer sense you here.' I knew that each
day that passed...I would lose some of who
you were.

I closed my eyes and as sleep came, I
found you in dreams of love; the beach,
movies, concert, a candle lit dinner, a
song of love, a touch...an embrace
to last an eternity. I woke...a tear upon
my cheek. No...no...you're not here.
In a world without you, I must...
hold tight... 'to the dream.' To you.

Days...weeks...months, pass. You are
still within me, but I can not feel the comfort
of your presence. People...things...life,
seem to be smothering thoughts...
moments with you.

I try to ignore life. I try to stay in the past...
with you. Life...living...is dragging me away.
It begins to cloud, some of the
more distant memories, of who we were.

So it begins...losing you...bit by bit. The
music we loved...danced within me.
Then...as the fading of a summers night,
it slowly began to disappear,
into the light of reality.

Each day I dread the part of you, that
will not return from the past. Places in the past,
that are slowly being dimmed
in the fog of yesterdays.

Some memories may fade...but you...
you my love...shall forever remain
in my heart.

Nothing is the same...without you.
Until another time. Another place.

© Joe Fazio

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Everything Is Nothing (Rated In Group)

I wish of that of use to be and yearn of
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Like an early morning tied, whos waves
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Exit Man...Enter Religion

Why does it seem when women are finished
with men, they turn to religion?

Are they in fact seeking a substitute

Ever So Fragile...

Life, is likened to, a piece of fine crystal.
It can be beautiful, or in a moments notice,
be shattered, beyond repair.