Minutes turn into years.
Memories become less detailed.
The measure time for each of us,
comes down to different numbers
Twelve years have gone.
And we have become accustomed to
the person no longer being there.
Forgetting the phone number we once
had memorized, a vague glance in mind
driving by their former residence.
Twelve years and the sting no longer hurts.
I just acknowledge it.
And realize it’ll always be there.
We carry you with us. We get through
the holidays and your birthday each year,
simply because we have to.
Enjoying ourselves but never completely.
For it is always bittersweet.
In this moment of rare opportunity,
I shall visit you.
For it has been more
than a while
since I visited you.
And in light of my
Part of me always
believed that if I
thought of you everyday, going to the
gravesite wasn’t necessary.
Guess it depends on how you look at it.
We’ve all moved forward.
But thoughts of you are never behind.
Which is all we CAN do.
Till the day we see you again.
Shontay Luna: "I am a lifelong Chicagoan who has made it my mission that my city be known for more than Al Capone and deep dish pizza. Not that there's anything wrong with that."