Slippery Slope

I've said goodbye too many times

or rather

I've tried to say goodbye

instead I string days like beads

months become wreaths laid out to dry

I have a PhD in Passing Time

distraction and redirection as references

I've encrypted the art of Someday

so carefully that I've forgotten the key

so friend fades to acquaintance

lover to the disillusioned

projects to discarded piles

I'm surrounded by my past potential

and future what-ifs

robbing myself of all the tomorrows

just to give Grief the slip

~~~

(forgetting he lives here)