Amelia James Poetry

Time is taking its sweet time erasing you,
Each moment stretching like a shadow at dusk,
A slow ache that refuses to fade,
As if my heart is still bound in your trust.

The clock ticks soft, a hesitant pace,
Whispering secrets of what once was ours.
But questions bloom like weeds in this space,
Their roots entwined with my sleepless hours.

Why did you leave without turning to say
The words that might loosen this endless knot?
What truth hid behind the silence that day?
In your absence, only echoes forgot.

Your voice—still a melody caught in the air,
Your touch—still a ghost that won’t leave my skin.
Each day, I bargain with time to repair
The fractures you left when you walked out, within.

Closure eludes me, a star out of reach,
Its light flickering, cruel in the night.
How can I move when I’m chained to the breach
Of a love unraveled in silence, not fight?

But time, it moves like a stubborn tide,
Eroding too gently the sharpest of pains,
Yet leaving me bound to the questions inside,

holding the sweetness of you deep inside,
Their weight unyielding, their whispers like chains.

A paradox coursing through my veins.

How cruel, how kind, this passage so slow,
Teaching me grief while it cradles the sting.
You are both the wound and the glow,
A love that was once, and will never be spring.

I wait for the moment your face will dissolve,
For time to concede what it hasn’t yet done.
But how can I heal what I cannot resolve,

Until then, I’m captive to what I can’t solve—
When the answers I need are forever undone?

The slow march of healing that has just begun.

-Amelia James