I stand at your gravestone, silent tears falling from my eyes. "You've only just left me." My voice trembled while I talked to thin air. "But I can't remember you." I kneel in front of the gravestone. Brigadier General Michael Quinn; b. 26.OCT.1882 d. 4.MAY.1921 it said. "Your touch, "I said, "Your kiss," More tears fell down my cheeks, "It's all gone." 

"Remembrance"

Juria Kurosaki 'Riaki'

~~~~~~~~~~

I stand at your gravestone, silent tears falling from my eyes. "You've only just left me." My voice trembled while I talked to thin air. "But I can't remember you." I kneel in front of the gravestone. Brigadier General Michael Quinn; b. 26.OCT.1882 d. 4.MAY.1921 it said. "Your touch, "I said, "Your kiss," More tears fell down my cheeks, "It's all gone." That last kiss, the one we shared in the rain, all I remember about it is that it was you I was kissing. See? I'm forgetting your face too. The only way I remember is from the pictures of us that I took down after you left me. Your things, they're all in your old dresser, there's almost nothing in sight in our house that reminds me of you, even though they're still there. "I miss you," I told the carved white rock. "But I can't remember you." I set the Stargazer lilies that I'd brought him on the grave. They are- no were his favorite flowers. I stood up. "I love you." I said, "Forever and always." I turned from the stone of which my husband of only four years laid cold beneath, and left him again. I can't remember, but I'll never forget. One last tear slid down my face as I left the cemetery. "Goodbye again"  I murmured, " Bastard Colonel."

I don’t really know why I wrote “Remembrance.” I just found a picture and thought of the idea. When I write, I first find inspiration then start with the first word and keep going, writing almost without thinking about what I’m writing, until I feel it’s finished.

I don’t really know why I wrote “Remembrance.” I just found a picture and thought of the idea. When I write, I first find inspiration then start with the first word and keep going, writing almost without thinking about what I’m writing, until I feel it’s finished.