BB Grey–musings

One extreme to another,
we move like shadows in a hall of mirrors,
chasing reflections of what never was.

I thought you loved me—
but love is a language I misread,
syllables slipping between regret
and the point of diminishing returns.

We all make mistakes,
excuses have their uses,
like slicing a cake into pieces
too small to taste.

Shaking a hand, clenching a fist,
paradise is a mirage where
you can look,
but never touch.

Temporary, written on sand,
etched by tides that never stay.
Once upon a time,
we were friends—
but fairy tales fade,
and even the sky forgets its blue.

No crock of gold at the rainbow’s end,
just echoes of words left unsaid.
Tell me how to find belief—
or don’t—
I gave up listening
when love became a whisper
drowned in the roar of goodbye.

A three-coin fountain,
Muhammad’s mountain,
wishing on illusions
that slip through my hands.

Please,
walk into the room with my heart,
but leave before I remember
how it felt to lose your touch.

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We’ve all experienced heartbreak. Sometimes, a song from back in the day takes us right back to a love that, when lost, felt like the world had stopped—like everything was collapsing around us. Those emotions were raw, intense, and all-consuming, especially in early adolescence. I wish I could say that was the only time, but heartbreak has found me a few more times in this half-century of life.

Lessons were learned along the way.

This freewrite reflects on personal experiences—on the moments when I once wore varsity gold and green, and now, with readers perched on my nose, focus on this screen. It’s about everything in between—experiencing love, loss, and nostalgia, all while ABC and Martin Fry throw lines that I either feel in my bones or challenge in my mind.