an attic full of memories

unfolding feelings

in the back of your mind

is like unearthing old boxes

where memories were hidden

sometimes I prod those boxes

scared to open them up, with shaky hands

and when the lid slips off

memories roll out

they spill like coins

and my sadness ensues

because those coins

those memories 

they're of him

of love

short lived 

puppy 

lustful 

love