the present of a past

Pale and thin faced,
Barely recognized as the boy from school.

He was once affectionate.
Pulled you in close,
Holding you tighter,
A second longer than you expected.

He once looked in your eyes.
Intently seeing hope,
Stirring your depths,
Until you yourself were in action.

As I embraced him that night,
I knew he was gone.

No pressure of his squeeze,
No hand on my back.

No innate joy in his voice,
No gap-toothed giggle.

No love in his eyes,
No hope in reality.

Just in a whiskey daze.
In his world of safety.

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Filed under 30 in 30, Life

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