Grayscale (A Conclusion)

Timing is nothing but intervals of motion.

Perfection is unattainable, but still we try.

And even when we don’t, we do.

But this is where my track finally bends,

And all of this confusion finally ends.

I turn the corner and look the other way.

This absence barely stirs me at all

Parallel we began, and divided we fall.

Rare is it now that you creep through my mind,

But fuck, when I looked, you were walking behind.

I feel my body start to run away…

Over grayscale hills and scenery,

You can find me by following the trail my heart bleeds.

I don’t even look behind me to realize that you aren’t there anymore.

Passing by on the street;

A quick nod, and for a second you raise your eyes for mine to meet.

Within that silent interval, all the old memories, they take to their feet.

But that is all they are; memories.

They mean nothing to me anymore, so I drop my stare.

Walk away.

I am finally at rest.