Lost

*This is a poetry piece, if you couldn't tell

I let it slip away for a single fold in time
only to find it's been missing all along.
Compress it to a single moment,
the realization that you've lost control.
Pulling the skin from beneath my nails
to understand I stand alone
to understand the scars are mine
and they have been there all along.
To think I had escaped was infantile
and empty in this trust,
and I could beg and plead,
and squeeze the juice from it
as if it were ripened fruit...
but still it stands un-phased,
like it were pointing and laughing
with bony fingers of truth,
wrapped in lies,
confronted by time
but missed it's mark.
As I have missed my mark a million times
standing inches from it
but light years away.
As though a single breath would freeze in the wind
to reach this fold in time
I will not be mistaken.