It’s not the endings that will haunt you
But the space where they should lie,
The things that simply faded
Without one final wave goodbye.
Like a book with torn out pages,
Forgetting things you’re sure you knew,
A question with no answer,
And a song stopped halfway through.
So when your mind attempts to store them
Their crooked shape will never fit,
And forever in the corners
Of your consciousness they sit.
Jagged edges made from moments
You can’t be quite sure were the last,
Slicing open thoughts that healed
As they attempt to slip right past.
You see, not knowing is what haunts you,
The memories that never mend,
For they are puzzles missing pieces
Of all the things that didn’t
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