Nothing but brief, vivid memories.
A broken house -
Surrounded by the cold of winter,
Soothed by the love of passers-by,
Standing alone in defiance.
Pregnant, again, with smothered memories.
I have been here, haven’t I?
Why can’t I remember anything else?
All I can see
And hear are
The voices,
The screams,
The jarring laughter.
If only I could have something else,
I would pay whatever price it named.
If only I could have a normal day,
I would readily have it claimed.
If only I could see your faces,
I would…
There is nothing I wouldn’t do.
Sometimes,
Mere memories are not enough.