Scarred

I'll tell you a secret,
though it's not really much to share.

But it's something I don't really speak of,
so maybe it's worth to say.

Your name is quite absent in my conversations, now.
You barely run through my mind too.

The urge of searching your name is erased.
Though every now and then, I recall your face.

I used to ask myself if this would be okay;
you know, not having closure, an answer, a reason.

I wondered if we would ever speak.
If we could ever make it to even a smile.

And how I make it up in my mind, goes a little like this:

Perhaps it'll be years down the road, when all these are sorted out.
" Give him time. " - that's what most of them would say.

Time? What can time do?
Well, some say time heals. And I would second that.

Like a wound, it'll heal over time.
But it doesn't take the memory of being hurt or scarred away.

Heartbreak is like an accident.
Sometimes it's the other person's fault - sometimes it's our own carelessness.

And like many accidents, it leaves some traumatised, fractured and scarred.
And some never heal, several don't even make it out alive.

I envision time bringing the both of us to many places, stages, phases.

But when we meet eventually; Matured, different, changed.. someday.
I don't think it'll be worth making up then.

Because time has a funny way of making things turn.
Taking something and making it into nothing, or perhaps the other way round.

I'm sure we'd be able to look at this like nothing.
But like a victim of amnesia, I'd probably look at the scars and wonder about the story behind them.