i sat very still,
running my fingers across the paper
and taking steady breaths.
my heart was stuttering, a small
pang coming every now and then.
i could see it.
the dress
and the lemonade
and my anger
and the boy.
but it wasn't me
or my story to tell.
i wanted it to be me, so desperately.
but it no longer was.
i no longer had memories to drag up
or stories to tell.
but these letters, this boy,
they intrigued me
and so i moved onto the next one,
in hopes of finding a little piece
of my past.
a little piece
of myself.
YOU ARE READING
mellifluous
Romansathe doctors said that after the accident, nothing could bring back all of caroline's memories. there were times and places that she would never remember and that pained him. so no matter what the doctors said, he tried. he left her letters in hopes...
