Time softens the blow
dulls the pain
and eases the mind.
It doesn’t erase the past,
or kindly remove a haunting memory.

We say it heals all wounds.

Completely binds them together, and
closes all gaps.
But it merely stitches the part we tried to remove together
with non-decaying strings that are easily burned away by
a sudden word, touch, or smell.

It is in those moments of weakness
that no amount of time can hinder the unyielding pain
and hurt that is etched into a thinly shielded heart.
Momentarily lapsing in its fervent control,
you relive what was, as fresh if it were reoccurring once again, agonizingly slow.

But like a feeble hope, we’ll hold on to the idea that maybe,
just maybe time will hold out and persevere in the end.