can they see the ghosts in the gaps between each blink
in the space in which they’ve claimed their own ?

Each day.
All I see—
a shadow.
For me,
you left
long ago.

Each day,
we share
the same space,
but there is no
trace
of you—
the person
I once knew.

Each day,
I long to
look deep
into your eyes.
But I know
all I will ever see
is black—
my reflection
staring back.

You don’t laugh anymore.

Well,

not like you did before.

The woman, a nest of grey,
Takes you down to Chelsea Bay.

She stories you, and every time,
Mentions her garden, offers a lime.

A pile of words, so interspersed,
Grows so large, she loses sight of the first.

You scale the sentences, smile in hand,
Laughter, reveals, accusals grand.

She tells you, think differently, make circles of these lines
Use all the pieces of this fruity life, don’t dare discard the rind.

If minds had hands, as pontificate in tandem,
you’d hold hers steady, sliding addendum to addendum.

Then, saying goodbye, she extends once more a lime.
Forgetting, all too quickly, you’d already declined.

I watched her become numb.
I watched as nothing reached
past the fog surrounding her mind.

The constant disconnect between her and everything around her scared me.
When she stopped smiling with her eyes, it scared me.
When she became unrecognizable, it scared me.

Her death was a surprise to no one.
But it was a relief to some.
She had been a bright light in so many lives.
Her radiance and color were unlike anyone else.
Watching it dull into gray fog made us feel
like the whole world was losing color.

The funeral was as solemn as her last few months had been.
Not everyone had seen her descent into dullness.
Her dementia-muddled mind was uninterested
in the friends and family who did come to see her.

She lived as a dear friend to me and many others,
but she died a stranger to all. May she rest in color,
and may the people she left behind always remember
her vibrant life.

so scared of losing yourself
to a future disease
you forgot about the rage inside
and your family's grief

there's a lifetime of love here
but it's getting hard to see
this thing you think you're fighting
well it's really fighting me

You glance up once again
from the rediscovered photo,
sellotape stained and saved
for this future finding.

You hold me yet again in
the honesty of your peaceful smile,
in that shared perfect moment
catching us all unaware.

But that was just before our fall
into confusion, into the fog
that suddenly enveloped you
and robbed us all completely.

But now you return to mind
and I can return your smile
once again.

Imagine living your whole life with memory loss..

Now forever in Love
with all the wonders,
all the dreams,
all the inspiration
your mind and heart has ever
pondered on, chased and sought after,
never realizing whatever you’ve always Loved is infact a story about yourself,
your soul.

Imagine reading a story to yourself about the parts of you, you have forgotten was You all along..

Adrift,
she fishes,
searching a foggy sea,
for a souvenir of long gone years,
and who she used to be