7 January 2013
As the memories on the shelves of my mind begin to fall down, I pick them back up one by one.
Some of them rest there battered and decrepit, memories of times to forget.
Others lay there, gracefully, beautifully, shining ever so bright, reminding me of the happiest times of my life.
As I pick up your memory, it rests in my hands, as perfect as it was before.
I go to place it on my shelf again but it speaks to me,
"Don't let go"
As I whisper tearfully back,
"I have to"
Memories. • Opuss № I