A distant memory, slightly faded

you had become a ghost,

a distant memory, slightly faded,

the words written in my journal.


i remember the night i told you goodbye.

when i yelled and screamed,

and promised that was the end of it.


the nights that followed were cold.

too empty in the darkness, too alone,

the silence echoed. the tears whispered.


i learned to hear your name without crying.

learned to smile at other men again.

no longer searching for your face in theirs.


then i ran into you on the street one day and

everything came pouring back. i hid it quite well

behind the smile i had practiced.


your smile. that smile that shook the ground

i stood on. the smile that i fell in love with.

the one i tried so hard to forget.


i was a forest and you were a match.

carved from the same tree but you burned like hell

and i was flammable.


you were ignited by our love. i was struck by

the beauty and danger and raw power of your flame.

until one day it burned out.


and all that was left were ashes. dust left over from a

wildfire. beneath, the embers still glowed with

an unwavering passion.


i almost lost it. i almost broke like that god awful day.

all of the pieces i glued back together,

threatening to fall apart.


but i didn’t. we talked. mindless chit chat about

how we’ve been. formalities. and then we parted.

yet another goodbye.


i was left standing there in the street, processing.

was he as broken as i was before?

was he glued together like me?


i like to think so. that’s the thing about love.

it’s excruciating, when you have it and after it’s gone.

a blessing and a curse.


but it stays with us until we die.

a score made on our hearts like tattoos of the past.

they may fade, but they never truly go away.


we may have gone our separate ways,

but we’ll always have that. the love we shared.

the kind they write books after.


so once again you’re a ghost,

a distant memory, slightly faded,

the words written in this poem.


always there, forever.

by Brianna Magner

Hi there, I’m Bri! I’ve always felt like I didn’t quite fit in throughout my life, as if I wasn’t meant to be defined or labeled or be put into a box. When I started writing, whether poetry or prose, I found it pouring out of me into rhyme schemes and well-versed metaphors and alluring alliteration. My life is sometimes messy and complicating, but it’s mine. Welcome to the poetry of a moth. x


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