scattered pictures

Ever drive by your old house, run into an old friend,
or smell something familiar and instantly you are sucked into a vacuum of time?

~ ~ ~

Memories are like airports.

You either can't wait to be taken away by them or you dread the thought of them.

Perhaps you left someone behind.  

Maybe they left you.

For a short while,

for a long while?

Either way, 

there you are - there they are,

being sucked high up into the atmosphere

in a thin metal tube,

in and out of your memory radar.

In an instant, 

loneliness creeps in and aches through your body like a dull heartbeat thud.

WAIT! COME BACK!

Don't go.

Stay right here where it's safe inside my head.

Who cares if you're delayed.

I need you here, delayed,

not there on someone else's good timing.

Of course I love you!

What?

Let you go, then?

Set you free?

Release the suction from my memory capsule?

How do I do that?

How does desperation make room for rationale?

Alright then.

Hold my hand,

sweet memory of mine,

and help me let you go.

If we only have what we remember,

then what would I have left of you?

Can you give me a sign that you're still here,

old memory in my head.

Do you remember me?

I've grown up a little.  A lot.
I was the girl who slept inside your walls,
the teenager who drove you when you were brand new.
The one who appreciated your smell before she knew how to appreciate.
The woman who remembers you.

Your plane is waiting,

right there next to my soul.

You can get on it, 

I understand.

Have a seat near the wing.

Pay attention where you took off

and where you will land.
Hold onto your compass.

And remember me too,

as the one who

held onto you 

even 

when

you

forgot.


~ L ~