Photograph

I saw him today in his face 

I saw him in his words 

I saw him in today in the wrinkles on his forehead 

I saw him in my mind 

I saw him in the shadows on the wall

I saw him in my bed 

I saw you 

but I was confused because I saw him 

I saw her in your eyes 

I saw her in the way you touched me 

I saw her in the shakiness of your voice 

were both injected with the evils of this world 

I saw her in the way you hang around 

every word I say like it's my last 

I saw her in the night 

when your sleeping by my side

your waking up shaking 

your hand rests so gently on my chest 

making sure I am still beating 

the flashbacks dig through your soul 

the tears pelt from your eyes 

the pain surges like venomn 

and wraps around our necks 

pushing us deeper in the past 

gulping for air 

I saw him 

and her 

in 

a scrapbook 

fragile 

and 

smeared 

with 

ink 

inscribed 

with 

the bleeding 

fabrication 

of 

loose 

leaf 

paper 

tied 

with 

the 

bow 

of 

the 

words 

all 

good 

things 

must 

end 

two wrinkled 

hands 

with 

lines 

of 

love 

an 

eldery

couple 

laid 

side 

by 

side 

walked 

and

trembled 

in 

the 

footsteps 

of 

each 

other 

I saw their story 

just by watching 

the film 

as I flipped 

through 

each 

page 

of 

the scrapbook