Time, The Great Healer?

Blasted by the sands of time

I might forget for a while that she’s not there,
but all can see the lines etched on my face
where sands of time have blasted a tell-tale trace,
the outlines of quotidian despair.
Everyone says that sorrows are healed by time,
but how much time does it take? Is it even true?
The words are used to ease and comfort you,
but swearing a partial truth is still a crime.
The wound may close, the skin knit back together
(though time is a slow and feeble aid at best, a
salve that will sometimes leave a wound to fester)
but the limb hacked off from there is gone forever.
The feeling of loss will never go away,
it’s the price for what I had, and I must pay.