A Silent Death

As the dust of time gathers softly on your sweet memories,fading into nothingness.

Each passing minute,a nail in your coffin, each passing hour a shovel in your grave.

You…lie quietly on the soft bed of my fragrant rosy thoughts…pale, fading, and deathlike.

Yes,

You are dying,

A slow silent death,

In my mind.

While I mourn,

alone, lonely,

in total solitude.

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Cleaning My House Of Your Memories

I am cleaning my house.

Of your memories.

Looking at memories to throw away,

that I don’t need any longer.

 

The yellow waxy box with your stuff, the chipped shaving mug,

Albums of black and white photographs of our wedding – with half forgotten faces from half forgotten places.

 

The house is smaller now.

And I don’t have space for all the memories.

I have to be selective – what memories to save and what to throw away.

 

I am cleaning my house,

Of your memories.