You say you want my picture;

Why?, when we've been so close for so long,

(Though never again quite together)

You say it's because you miss my smile,

Though you don't love me anymore...

You will not get it, not from me.

I refuse.

I will not let you make of me a memory.

Buried with other photos,

Pitiful,

Faded reminders;

I cannot join them

and still claim to survive.

Not even for you.

If you wish to see my smile,

Come and see me;

You remain the only one

Who draws it out.

I'm sorry that I refuse to disappear

In glossy pages, though I fear

That I shall never see you here;

After all,

Why would you want to see my smile? -

You don't love me anymore...

No matter how I fight it

I have been made

A memory.