post-prognosis

your
hair
is
softer
and
your
eyes
are
kinder.
the
days
are
shorter
and
I
just
realized
the
years
weren't
close
to
long
enough.

the moments are l o n g e r
but all the wrong moments.
all the wrong memories come back:
the times when I shut you out,
and when I said things badly,
and all those times I could have
hugged you, kissed you, said something
and I didn't, because somehow I guess
I thought you'd be around forever.

and
now
I
know
I
was
wrong.
and
I
just
hope
you
have
time
left,
and
maybe
I
can
have
some
of
it.
please?