The Fire That Preserved Pompei

It hits harder than a train when I wake up early morning wanting to tell you things

 But realising we don't talk anymore.

It's crippling to not have you near me when fear strikes with all his might

To not know about your days and weeks boring as it may have been

Do you still argue with your mother like you used to??

Am I something real or just a passing thought in your mind

Do you know know that I love you? Loved you?

I always believed we could preserve our friendship like the fire that preserved pompeii

Oblivious to the fact that it might just be another familiarity that will fritter away,

And eventually it did, and when it did it felt like a woe to my being

Like a parting; A divorce where

You took a piece of my armour and I got the unresolved grief

You took my dignity and left me with indignation and silent years; the trade wasn't fair.

Any now after all these years I don't know what I am running from, you or myself

I can't recall your face anymore but I remember your hands.

What should I do with this information

Where do I put the memory of us running barefoot on the ground that night 

It's fascinating how I don't want to talk to you ever again

But I think of you on your birthdays or when I get a whiff of lavander.

It's rotten work to not be your friend anymore

To not speak our in house language created by the stories we weaved together.

It sucks to be me again

But I am greedy, still holding on to you, maybe it's just something I invented

Or Maybe that's just how chronicle of life is,

We meet, we love, we part, despite wanting to grow around each other

One day I might pass you on some street we used to walk together

I hope you dont divert your eyes, walk away if you want though 

But a lingering glance, that's all I ask, that's all it will take to remind you of me

Of us, of the laughter and the language, the comfort we once shared

I hope it makes me smile, less bitter or something that I can live with.