A glimmer

Every time I see,

a small bit of light on my wall,

I’m reminded of what I want.

I measure the amount of light i receive,

as the amount of light i deserve.

As it fades,

I wonder if there was something i could’ve done to make it stay longer,

or perhaps I didn’t appreciate it enough in the moment.

Perhaps it was never meant to stay,

and I was only meant to enjoy it,

as long as it lasted,

as long as it wanted to stay.

I can’t recreate that glimmer,

I can’t scrape at the wall,

or open my window any more.

Instead I have to wait,

until a glimmer reveals itself again.

The in between stage,

is potentially the most painful,

the light lingers,

and I pry my eyes open,

to stare at it,

I’m trying to imprint it on my brain,

thinking that if I stare hard enough,

or intently enough,

more light will be revealed to me.

The end,

is what I knew would happen.

A blank white wall,

The only decoration now,

are shadows,

Shadows that were always there,

and shadows that will stay with me,

after the light leaves.

It doesn’t get any easier,

the light leaving,

despite me knowing it’ll happen.

Each time,

the light is never the same,

 yet my longing for it is.

And sometimes the light comes back,

unexpectedly,

did I wish for it to come back,

or was it always going to return,

whether I waited or not.