Looking at the pictures of what was us, perfect couple of what was us. The smiles of what was us. The glitter in the eyes of what was us.
Looking at the pictures, I then wonder, frozen in time of what were the happy moments. The hopes and dreams that we had for us but the camera froze in time. What happened to the love that was? An earthquake? Should I call it a heart quake that ripped through and tore us apart? And what remained was a picture in time?
Looking at the picture, I feel like crying, not tears of joy but of loss, for a love that went but here it remained…frozen in time, in a picture in my hands. Haunting me like a ghost. The Conjuring.
They say a picture speaks a1000 words, oh what the heck, this one cries too, for the love of what used to be us. In a1000 ways.
Looking at the picture, I turn away, like it’s the plague. Book of Exodus. I side away, for the hurt & pain I cannot say. For a love frozen in time…and I could never bring back.