We Lose more than Souls
She used to sit around with family,
and tell stories about the years they raised me.
She'd tell anecdotes, of funny things I said or did...that I never remembered. That I still can't remember.
Those things left with her. I don't think I ever fully realized how much of myself would die with her.
Other memories she left, I vaguely remember things she told me. The times of my sleep walking, the first time I ate an icing covered roll, the time the man in the cafe' taught me how to rig the salt and pepper shakers to pour out on an unsuspecting victim. Now I feel pressured, that I'm really the keeper of these passed on memories of myself.
and tell stories about the years they raised me.
She'd tell anecdotes, of funny things I said or did...that I never remembered. That I still can't remember.
Those things left with her. I don't think I ever fully realized how much of myself would die with her.
Other memories she left, I vaguely remember things she told me. The times of my sleep walking, the first time I ate an icing covered roll, the time the man in the cafe' taught me how to rig the salt and pepper shakers to pour out on an unsuspecting victim. Now I feel pressured, that I'm really the keeper of these passed on memories of myself.