Memories.

I can smell her on every page.
I hold onto this book, it’s a paperback with a broken spine, I hold it close to my heart, second for second.

I’ve drawn little hearts on the pages I like, the chapter in which I started to know you, I’ve underlined your name with a happy smile, beaming ear to ear.

In the back of this book of life, I signed with my name, while drawing pictures of unicorns and elves happily dancing under the rainbow.

From page to page I like to fondle with the corners, fold the paper into funny looking curls, and then folding them back again, or just leave them like they are.

Sometimes I like to leave the book open in the wind, sometimes the wind will take some of the pages and turn them at its own will, then I’ll just as quickly as the wind grab it back and read the page that is left open, cherish the moment depictured at the page.

I close my eyes, remembering what had passed, wondering if it will last.

The cover of the book is green, serene like it’s depicting a scene.


Fields of softest green, I lay feeling the dream, I open the book again, page down and page up again, and then I close my eyes again, using the book as a tent, covering my eyes from the sun.

At night I sit by my desk, reminiscing about what have been and what’s to come.
To bed now, In the dark, I lay with a tinted smile, stroking the cover of my book, rugged and flawed, I can feel the pulse of life, I read the title, written in cold gold, “Memories”..

Like a lullaby it sings to me..
“Dream, Dream and become all you can be..”
“Like we are, you shall become..”
“When all hope is gone, remember no not what is wrong..”
“Remember the dream, remember me..”
“When in doubt, just open the book, feel the warm embrace of memories”

Lullaby.

I still have the memories at least..