I keep keeping them
when I know
I should let go.
Letters, words-
Ones that once held meaning-
I should not be keeping.
They make me smile,
One thing I haven't done in a while.
But they make me sad-
Reminding me of what I had
And I'll never have.
They bring a certain comfort
An assurance of some kind.
That what you said was something real-
Not just something in my mind.
And they bring pain,
A sudden burst in my veins.
I'll read them over and over again.
'Til there is no sadness to gain.
YOU ARE READING
Polaroids Lost in Time
PoesíaOriginal poems, short stories and lost polaroids. Some sad and others bittersweet.
