u/L-Reinhardt — reddlx

No one is coming back for you.

Not the man
who had more time.

Not the body
that obeyed without question.

Not the years
you thought
would wait.

They are gone.

And nothing
stands in their place.

There is no second self
hidden ahead.

No cleaner version
waiting to begin.

Only you.

Older.
Reduced.
Still responsible.

Time does not return
what it takes.

It does not explain itself.

It does not apologise.

It moves on
while you stare at the damage.

A man learns this
without ceremony.

In the morning
that costs more
than it should.

In the task
that used to be simple.

In the silence
after realising
no one is coming
to hand him back
what he wasted.

Or what was taken.

So he stops waiting.

Stops bargaining
with the past.

Stops looking
for the life
that should have arrived.

There is only this one.

Damaged.
Shorter than expected.
Still his.

So he gathers
what remains.

Not hope.

Not comfort.

Material.

And begins again
with less.

— L. Reinhardt

If this resonates, my collection Making Peace with the Wolf is available on Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GXFBZGSJ

Feedback links:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1syymr9/comment/oiya48s/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

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He does not spend the day
the way others do.

Not freely.

There is a measure now.

Not of time,
but of energy.

He wakes
and already knows
there is less of it.

Enough for a few things.

So he chooses.

Not what he wants.
What he can afford.

Standing costs something.

Walking costs more.

Speaking too long
has a price later.

Even thinking
can take from it
on certain days.

There are no surplus hours.

No wasted movement.

No careless effort.

Everything is accounted for.

He begins to see
how loosely others spend.

Unnecessary words.
Extra trips.
Small, thoughtless uses
of strength.

He does not resent it.

He notices.

Because he cannot do the same.

So the day becomes
a series of decisions.

If he does this,
something else
will not be done.

If he pushes now,
he pays later.

There is no negotiation in that.

Only consequence.

He saves what he has
for what matters.

Some days
that is very little.

And that becomes enough.

Not because it satisfies him.

Because it is what remains.

A life
that used to move freely

now moves
on ration.

— L. Reinhardt

If this resonates, my collection Making Peace with the Wolf is available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GXFBZGSJ

Feedback links:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1sy5jfb/comment/oirrvt4/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1sxqs4q/comment/oirszhk/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button