To My Past

Impossible to convert emotion to paper;
Impractical to mold words into emotion.
As I am, I empty myself.
Forming the art that extends unto you;
A plethora of time fails to reveal
The reality of situations continuously veiled.
Time is a thief, breaking sentience;
All that's left is minimal patience.
Dog-eared memories and sun-stained photos
Leave lingering ghosts of innocence
That leave footprints trailing...
Questions left unanswered;
Words left unspoken;
Tracks left untread;
Touches left unfelt.
As I am, I empty myself.
Intersecting, identities remain.
As you are, always etched here.
Intersecting, identities remain.