Tattered pages throw aside and I found

a crumpled creased snapshot

of you folded beneath the weight of

all my books, in the bottom of the

pink bag I carry on my shoulders.

There you were, eyes glancing at

someone else that I could not see.

I tried to will away the whisper of a

smile on my lips remembering a

walk through the leaves into the sunset.

(the end is near)

Or music pounding in my ears and a cool

breeze blown through an open window

playing on my skin, sweet nights

stars sprinkling the sky

(like cinnamon sugar, I told you)

but all I could see was your face.

I passed by the green box

marked ' RECYCLING ' in

white fractured letters, and I

almost tossed the

photograph

in, but something steadied my hand

and instead I smoothed out and held onto

this memory.

It's all I have left of you.

And still, someday soon I will

shred this picture, tiny fragments

of your words/memories as well as the

heartache you gave me.

(growing duller every day)

I will surrender and let the wind

take it all away…

I've Let Go.