If all the days of my life shall be relentless
yet unbearably empty and eternal
(as they have these past petty years)
I shall never wish to relinquish
my blissful memories of you.

you as you were.
me as I was.

so few (yet many) years ago, as each passing day of carefree and weightless youth leaves me all the more jaded and detached.
I live now removed, hovering, above and around and behind and below and anything but filled and overwhelmed with my emotions.
I sit and remove
myself from myself
observe and
dissect
some specimen
my 15-year-old self under a cynical microscope
as I remember;
you as you were.
me as I was.

and so I continue to be
simple
naive
as I was.

and so all I can write is
simplicity
naivette.

As I write of the night in my silent childhood bedroom
the hazy pink lamplight
the sky quietly and steadily weeping outside
the strangely comfortable presence of my father safely downstairs but everything silent, silent in my hazy pink childhood bedroom save for the hush of our voices
as I lay my head on your shoulder for hours and the sky kept weeping, weeping silently outside
as in the comfort of my childhood home I realized how I had fallen in love with you.

and of course it's all so simple, really
how will I know when I'm in love? oh honey you'll just know
and I did.

And so I do. I know. I know I will spend all the rest of my days
knowing, analyzing, picking apart, living anywhere but wrapped up inside myself
I know as I continue on
life relentless and eternal and hollow
that I wouldn't exchange the world for all my simple archetypal memories
every innocent, unmarred, tender, fragile, idyllic, sweet, cherished childhood notion I have of love
will be housed, immortal, in my memories of you.