Fade Away

Himanshu Singh Gurjar Creative Commons

I search for you during my waking hours
on every street and around every corner.

Sometimes I hear the clacking of heels
down desolate hallways, but
when I turn to look they’re always empty.

I went to the little Mexican place
down on fifth you loved to look for you,
but I found a vacant sign.

Was it your voice I heard
before the elevator doors closed last week?
I ran, but wasn’t quick enough.

I smelled your perfume at the station
the other day, but I didn’t know which train
you’d taken so I hopped on the wrong one.
I’ve always hopped on the wrong one.

I’ve asked the skeletons in the closet
and the monster under the bed
but they haven’t seen you either.

I’m afraid, I’ll only ever find you
in my memories. Until one day,
they too, will fade away.

Enjoy David Collante’s Poetry and other work

~And Poetry After Dark