Once upon a date,
There was a story you would not tell.
A story that hid at the back of your conversation,
But that I caught glimpses of, and felt
That this was an important tale.
Once upon a midnight,
You told me that story, and my heart opened
With love and sympathy and feeling trusted.
And seeing more than glimpses, I knew
That this was an important tale.
Once upon a summer,
Our stories entwined in that beautiful story everyone
Always loves to tell. We saw bright sunshine
In long days, not brief glimpses.
A trivial, but beautiful tale.
Once upon an absence,
You learned new tales in which you were
More than human. And returning, your false insight
Allowed you only glimpses of the person I am -
And turned our story into a tragic tale.
Once upon a silence,
You fled me and the grief I could not help
But feel at the breaking of our story’s thread.
Now I cannot glimpse where you have gone.
The pain fragmented our tale.
Once upon a recovery,
I unravelled the threads of my story
From yours – from the myths and pain and self-delusion.
Now I see in hopeful glimpses that the best of
My tale is yet to be told.
This was inspired by readwritepoem’s prompt to write a poem that doesn’t tell a story, but is about a story.
