I love rereading old notebooks,
Scanning forgotten phone notes,
And rummaging through filled diaries…
I like to see what I thought was important:
Dreams
         Love Notes
                   Cute Texts
                             Unfinished Poetry
They're almost like gravestones,
The way they define a moment
And hold dear to their date of creation.
Even the ones without a month or year,
I know: your name is in most of them…
Back when you used to randomly tell me you loved me;
All the poetry I wrote for you
But was too scared to ever tell you about it;
The nightmares where you weren't there
And the dreams where all there was in the darkness
Was the sound of your strong yet soft voice.
I love these notes and pages,
These tombstones of a happy time,
Too bad they're gone now--
Just like you.