The Memory of You

What is it? Longing? Adoration? Obsession? What is it that keeps you thinking of me, after so many years? Is it just to keep and protect what you once had, to hold those memories lofty and untarnished, silver, delicate, like heirlooms you refuse to give away? In refusing to let go of what you remember, clutching it savagely within the walls of your mind, cold like steel, do you believe in a hopeful way that you will never need recognize the present and the future? What you remember may be a treasure, but it is long, long gone! Like sand through your fingers, but you! You cannot see it, still clutching at nothing, holding what you imagine is still there. But here I am! In the here, the now, before your unseeing eyes. The eyes still glittering with the sands of memory, unable to focus on me for the memory of the me that you knew.