Five is an age
too young to understand
where life goes
when death takes its hand.
I was left with only memories,
but even those are bland.
How can I know
which I miss most?
Memories or him,
or some combo of both?
Not having these answers
is what I most loathe.
The absence of knowledge
is plaguing to me.
I’ve searched through the photos
trying to see
if what I “remember”
is true memory.
Out of this confusion,
I wish I could crawl.
Because I was too young
and can’t fully recall
his true form or shape
,
or really anything at all.
---------- The Shady Side of the Mile ---------- 