A Poem for What Remains of National Poetry Month

Well, I couldn't just let National Poetry Month end without posting a poem!

What Remains

Like wanton lovers, the days come to me
dressed in dreams and perfumed with possibilities,
whispering of all that could be,
hypnotizing me with their seductive songs
so that I can't see where I'm headed,
so that I can't see I'm always falling.
But when the sun sets, they disappear
without a word, without looking back.
And I clutch at them, begging for more.
And I reach for them as they float away,
the remains littering the landscape of my life-
each torn and tattered piece reminding me
of all my faults and failures,
of all that I am and all that I am not. 
I wrap myself in the memories of moments
spent looking towards the future.
I wrap myself in the memories of moments
spent without fear and doubt.
I wrap myself in the memories of moments
that never existed except in my dreams.
Time waits for no one, but teases everyone.