Memory lane is not a lane or street or nice park bench
It's a large glass that divides us
I stand on one side and see you waiting for me on the other
You look like you did on our last day together
Your shoes freshly stained by the grass we cut that morning
I suppose the features I don't remember are filled in by my mother's recollection of you
Stories that made me laugh and miss you
Stories that made me not want to see you in the glass again
I desperately want to feel grief but instead feel bitter
Because you look through the glass and see me as I am
You watch me break down and fail time and time again
While all I see is a still figure smiling back
A vague copy from a picture of you on my first birthday
I know it's supposed to be comforting
The thought of you watching from above
But I beg you, please turn away
So when I'm ready for you to turn back around
I will see you beaming at me with pride