One day

photos won't be enough

to trigger a mem'ry

a moment

a feeling;

One day,

the stories photos tell,

will be unremembered

forgotten

gone, effaced;

One day,

photos won't be enough

to confirm we have loved

that we laughed

and we lived.

One day,

before the photos fade

the edges turn yellow

and curl

and crack,

our eyes,

our minds, will dim and wane

we will wander the halls

of remembrance

blindly.

One day,

you won't recognize me

in a photo or here,

at your side,

holding hands;

One day,

before the world goes black

and death takes our last breath

photos won't

be enough.

I make myself coffee at half past three in the afternoon, and pour in sugar and pieces of melted chocolate, stirred in with a knife. It’s the choice, I think, the freedom to do things because you’re the only one narrating.

My afternoons often contain some longing for morning. I let myself confuse the two, like the steam is smoke in my eye.

The choice is this, that at half past three, I have the whole day ahead of me, and in my head the hours stretch out so I can appreciate the already gone. I double booked myself all week and I will wind up pulling out on people I imagine I could love, if given half the chance. But can we love freely if we fall in love with sunrises and it’s already the afternoon?

Last night I did for free what I’d love to do forever, and imagined myself again a part of some collective with a vision. I have some ideas, you know, and sometimes I miss the village and knowing where the best water taps are.

Maybe it’s because I’ve spent the last decade always in love with one thing or another, and now it’s gone and I sleep soundly, thickly. I wake bleary, like sleep is something I can just fall into. I lick the bottom of my coffee cup and feel like the whole of something worth my own protection. And just like that, there’s a lifetime ahead.

I think I’ll always love mornings more when they bleed a little into my afternoon.

in development

sensory depravation

glossed ink and paper

02.13.2024

"One day, photos won't be enough." challenge @AJAY9979

photos were never enough

pale pasty polaroids of you on the ceiling never enough

you can’t dive deep dirty into the glossy glassy screen of an iphone

any more then you can tongue lash a smoking selfie satisfied

sniff the fresh loved fragrance of that crotch wet and wild

text a hand penned poem

they can AI a letter perfect version of you

turn you into a VR hologasmic extravaganza

clone for me a fabulous fully functioning sex robot

podcast you just breathing next to me for an eternity

but those too will be just other things

never enough

One day, photos won't be enough,

When you don't recognise the people in them

And they don't remember you were there

Because all the focus was on capturing the memory

And not actually living it

One day, photos won't be enough

That joyful wedding day snap

Won't soothe the sting of your indifference

Or bring back love that's faded

Because we stopped trying

One day, photos won't be enough

When the earth is burning

And ecosystems are in collapse

And our existence is on the edge of extinction

Those holiday albums won't save us

I watch as the model struts naked in the living room

Her head held high; body shown in full bloom

I won't be enough

Is what I think and how I feel

Photos wont be enough, I'm mad at him and that's real

Why does he need to flaunt everyone else around?

I don't understand why temptation brings him down

I don't believe it when you say that you don't want to do things with them

I don't believe it when you say, that you don't want to be more then friends-

So now I sit and wonder

What you think while cameras flash

Photos just wont be enough

All of them I want to slash

I've loved you since May.

It's almost been a year,

and you've been gone a long while.

But I've never stopped,

just repressed the feeling

to avoid wallowing in the pain.

And would never tell you this,

but I look through old pictures

just to see your face again,

hoping you might show up in my dreams

like you used to.

I can say with confidence,

that photos will never be enough.

They just make the longing more intense.

You're the only person who's ever made me feel like this,

like I'm drowning in love,

and I may never make it back to the surface.

My heart reaches out for you,

tries to beat its way out of my chest,

just to get your attention,

and have you close to me again.

And as I go to sleep tonight,

I'll look through the pictures again,

and tell myself how pathetic I am for it,

because in my heart,

I know.

I know that photos will never be enough.

Yesterday or so it seems,

we were bursting at the seams.

My laughter on the edge of a snort,

Your rolling bass a deep retort.

Turns out, 70 candles on the cake was bad,

Hey, house is still standing, Happy Birthday Dad!

Today, I saw that photograph,

and I heard your awesome laugh.

Rumbling from your generous heart,

it's always infectious from the start.

Turns out, you can still make me smile,

Even though you've been gone, quite a while.

Tomorrow, or one day soon I fear,

I'll listen for your laughter, but it won't be there.

That first silence will be tough,

one day, photos won't be enough.

Turns out, though that memory is nice,

I'll have to live with losing you twice.

Faded memories? No more "A picture tells

A thousand words?" Shall we remember

their actions instead?

One day, photos won't be enough.

The memories are fading,

The love we once shared,

Is gone like a leaf in the crisp fall wind.

One day, photos won't be enough.

Looking back, on what you once cherished,

But you now resent.

One day, photos won't be enough.

Reminders of you everywhere,

Everywhere I look,

One day, photos won't be enough.