Its not the endings that will haunt you

But the space where they lie,

The things that simply faded without one final wave goodbye.

Like a book with torn out pages,

forgetting things you're sure you knew,

A question with no answer

And a song stopped halfway through.

So when your mind to attempts to store them

Their crooked shape will never fit,

And forever in the corners

Of your consciousness, they sit.

Jagged edges made from moments

You can't be sure where they last,

Slicing open thoughts that healed

As they attempt to slip right past.

You see, not knowing is what haunts you,

The memories that never mend,

For they are puzzled missing pieces

Of all the things that didn't...