Little Snippets

memory's library

i walk through the halls slowly

the books that line the shelves
are all the same

deep burgundy covers
pages dusty golden brown

other patrons would think they are old
and that no one reads them

they do not know that i sit
and read them slowly
in the middle of the night when i cannot sleep
caressing every page with the tips of my fingers
whispering words close to the paper
as my eyes flit across the pages
remembering why every line was written

some of the books
i never read

they are sometimes too painful to look at

but i do not hide them

they are held within shelves on the ceiling
always there
always threatening to fall and collapse

i haven't added a book for a long time to that forbidden shelf

in fact,
sometimes
around three am
i have climbed my way up to the ceiling
grabbed a book
and held it close to me
crying

it was because i forgot
that if this book had not been written
the books i love
in the shelves
on the floor
would not exist