Leech

Sucking the life out of a memory

She has become comfortable there.

Like a crutch

She leans on its every punctuation

Pressing down and holding, hoping she can surpass the end of the line.

Reminiscing is her epithet

It will be the death of her--of other thoughts

There's no room for alternate opportunities.

She has replaced other possibilities with a stump--stubbornly unmoving.

Holding on tight, her fingers cramp from years of recollection.

Easing up on her grasp only slightly, allowing small breaks every now and then

She refuses to believe in dissipation.

Dwindling fractions are sore from the motion of jerking back.

She doesn't know how to let go

She can't understand why she should

She reminds herself of the good days...

Can't let go

Need to breathe

Lest I die of starvation