black ink soaked calendar
thrown away with the rest of the rubbish
once a calendar filled with plans
(hopes and dreams)
planning days upon days ahead
forgetting that days within the calendar are not promised
some days will come; but for others days will be cut short
days full of plans dashed and destroyed; cut with a quick incision
my darling all we are promised is the here and now
in front of me you stand; ocean eyed and unwavering
another moment with you; a moment that fills the void of an uncertain lifetime
these moments mean more than the calendar I used to fill with plans
for, you are my here, you are my now