What's Left of You

I know who you used to be.
I know it doesn't mean much to say that anymore
And I know I should have said it sooner.

I'm trying to hold on to the spark of you
That was my hero not so long ago.
Time is a cruel, cruel thing at the best of times
And she's been doing her best to whisper you out of existence
Through sheer force of obstinacy.

I get it, you've grown accustomed to it-
The vultures circling you for years now, you,
The walking dead man, waiting to pick you clean
Taking bits and pieces here and there
Grinding, grinding down on you for years, or decades, for an eternity now,
Smothering and chasing,
Never tiring,
Waiting for that one false step
Waiting to take what they can

But you weren't supposed to let them at the best parts of you.
Don't try to tell me nature never taught you to guard those vital parts of you,
The real you, the person you are when it's quiet, the one I knew way back when.

I just can't shake this feeling,
This terrible creeping sadness,
This moment by moment retreat further into yourself,
Like I could blink and the rest of you will dissappear, or maybe it already has.

I should have said all this so much sooner.
I should have said it years ago.
And I know it doesn't mean anything to sit here talking to ghosts,
I just thought that someone should know