I guess the weirdest
thing is the fact that
I have no pictures of you. I have photos
with strangers in the background; of people
I don't even care that much about. Yet, somehow,
I don't have a single one of you.
I love to say that memories fade, and photos don't.
I guess that's what scares me.
That one day you'll leave, and I won't be able to
picture
your crooked smile, or the crinkle of your eyes,
or the way you shook your head at me.
I won't have a photo to refresh my memory either.
All I'll have is the hole you left unwittingly in my chest,
and the ache that you won't be around.