THE MEMORY BOOK
A collection of happiness clothed in love.
I torture myself, and peek at how the memories look,
She said she made it for me, for me to remember us.
It sits in the bottom of my closet,
All covered in dirt and clothes,
And I wish that I could simply disregard it,
A simple task it should be, I know.
And yet it stays, in the corner of dark places,
The picture of it reminds me of an Edgar Allen Poe Poem.
It was like her "Tell Tale Heart" was in the pages,
And I could hear it beating while I'm sleeping alone.
I've managed to throw it in the trash before,
Only to see it escape.
While scrounging through my closet floor,
I find it back in it's space.
How did you get back in here memory book,
I swear that I threw you away?
Do the lovelorn sleepwalk through the night,
Longing for the love of yesterday?
I take a trip down memory lane,
A wonderfully painful trip.
Looking at pictures of happy ghost,
Who haunt me with every page I flip.
Movie ticket stubs and Valentines day cards,
Filled with words of care.
Anniversary mementos and vacations abroad,
Documenting our happy years.
When she left me, she left me with our memory book,
A cursed gift I now can see,
The beating heart of our little memory book,
Forever haunting me, to never be set free.
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