you

It is through you that I wonder who I am. I consistantly question my past; I am hung up on the leaves off trees which have passed.

I don’t recognize the face in the pictures but I see myself lost in your eyes. I wonder again where have you been.

You scare me.

Sometimes I feel a tickle in my heart as your memory sweeps past me. I yearn to catch it, grab it, hold it in my hand with all my might; I might not make it.