The Memory of You
- Angelina Caporusso
- Apr 19, 2024
- 1 min read
It’s a strong collage, a scent of burning
wood and dead leaves.
It’s the uneasy feeling of a quiet
dead house of a broken family.
The loud bark of a small dog that never stops.
Halloween decorations wrecked by the
wind that we took hours to put up.
The drive to your house was my favorite—
I could get there with my eyes closed.
But little did I know,
when I would open them again, it was
no longer your house.
An imposter, a ghost—they must’ve taken you.
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