The photo album lies Sins of omissions Moments not captured Pain not preserved.
I want to put it away Throw it. Delve into my memories instead Those are sharper, more colorful Happier, but sadder too. But instead I look at your face. I never could turn my back on you, Not even your picture.
The photos are posed The space awkward Neither of us liked the camera. But there we are Over and over and over again Contained in the photo album.
My favorite ones Have us in the background Or The ones we didn’t know were being taken. In these, without the plastered-on smiles, I can read your face It is an open book Written in a language That only I can understand.
Those moments are true Painfully true.
But there is so much missing. The laughs The comfort you brought me, Just by being at my side. My sentences that you finished. That cannot be gleaned from a photo album.
And the pain The confusion The guilt. We didn't drift apart As much as you cutting a tie That I thought could never be broken With a single sudden snip.
The photo album doesn’t tell me that. It shows only page after page of us. Photos of a time with no I Only we. And then suddenly Just me All alone. And that is the truth.