Modern Romanticism

Blank slate,
keeping up with
these times of cold,
winter frost
upon our bitter souls.

Knots that strangle
our promises into voids.
I wanted to let you know
of these roots,
stretching below.

I wanted you to see
what I’ve always believed.
I’ve wanted you to find
all dreams I’ve kept in mind.

The temptation to view
those paranormal memories,
rising as phantoms
from somewhere deep,
from places,
where we’ve spent moments
locked in arms to weep.

The salvation of untying
a bond that has only loosened.
The teardrops that result
from no longer trying.

I want us to kiss our ghosts,
telling them to wave away
those faces that kept us stagnant.

I want us to move on
with fate tied to a cross,
forgiving us for what we lost,
while dying for what it cost.