The Disappearance Poem by grace mariner

Who is this girl you speak so fondly of?
She seems known by all but me.
Time has erased her long before she recognized her own uniqueness.
Time alone can be an enemy but with help, its'power doubles!
Oh those with, at the very least, questionable self esteems,
you know how it can assist the process of vile and rank decay of the memory...and the heart.
She has vanished, if in fact, she ever existed.
I am told she was happy and that others languished in the luxuriant wake of that happiness, wanting to be near that heady smell of incense and iconoclastic laughter...joyous they said.
What I would give to have known such a girl!
But I may only know her through the eyes of others.
As my vision wanes with age, my dark parts grow sharper,
ready to inflict their wounds on this thinning skin and ragged heart.
Oh all of my injuries are self inflicted, especially now.
Can I not behold this radiant light through their eyes?
Must I only see what that winged devil presents to me?
I want to see through those eyes, to know her beautiful countenance, her radiant grace.
It is the nature of man to transform the past into something more palatable, something that can be lived with by both
the mind and the heart.
Am I not made as all men are?
My visions of what has been are dark and foreboding,
they offer no respite to this damaged ancient heart.
It is not my mental state that causessuch pain.
I befriended that many years ago.
It is my ethereal nature that causes me to see it all as
clearly as any witch, scrying into her crystal orb.
It is not the future I tell, it is the past.
Rejection, lies, deception, violence...all are daily hissed out into the waiting ear of one who now accepts their damage,
befriending it like the misfiring brain.
These followers bear no judgement and nor do I.
Those moments of happiness dissolve into dust.
You can watch it dance and play in the sunlight, mocking,
reminding you she who was exists no more.