Time’s run out
Dear Loved One,
There are so many things I left unsaid
Was I
afraid
in the moment
Unaware
time was not our friend
Convinced
you knew them
Thought
you didn’t need
to hear them?
There are so many things we didn’t do
Was I
caught up
in work, in living
Unsure how to afford
the time you asked for
Hopeful
we’d make time
one day
to live out the lives we
dreamed of?
There are so many times I didn’t
tell you the things
There are so many times I didn’t
listen to you
There are so many times I didn’t
do the things
There are so many times I didn’t
stop doing the things
for you
Here we are, or rather
aren’t
I walk the path of two
as one
Your coffee cup
cold, stained,
sits here kissed by dust
I slide my finger along its lip
There are so many things I left unsaid.
Read this post and more on my Typeshare Social Blog.
Note: This piece was inspired by Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman and is a composite of stories of loss and regret I’ve heard. It is not autobiographical.
