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ella davis Jun 2018
I remember your face.
I remember the way you would laugh and how your face would wrinkle.
I remember that song you hated but you would play for me.
I remember helping you repaint your room all day when you moved.
I remember telling you everything i had felt for years.
I remember waking up to an empty phone all summer.
I remember learning to be alone.
What we remember is a faint outline of what really happened, so the memory is better looked upon and missed. We remember and look at the past because our present is not what we want. So we look for better times, but the past is a theft. It robs or time in the present while looking upon it.

— The End —