I open the folded sheet

I open the folded sheet crumpled to a hundred miniscule

I open the crumpled sheet with creases holding events more than folds

I open the creased sheet with lines routing a zig zag from nowhere to nowhere

I open the lined sheet with all the words swimming in the yellowed patches like it was their own sea

I open the worded sheet with a plethora of emotions more than a pair of eyes can convey eternity

I open the plethora of emotions with the key I had put in the locker labelled with your name

I open the key with the key chain carrying names of all the people I have met in life.

Happiness, sadness, depression, numbness and everything from intense to intense

It is not the kind of eerie intense that cripples you with a foreboding fear

It is the kind of intense that makes you question the word 'beautiful' when it couldn't say half of what you wanted to.

And you dear, your name stands out, calling to me among it all. Gracing the locker I have shut from the time I could remember.

Because all you hold is a bunch of flowers about to take their last breath in your dying hands.

Memories.

***

©VioletEden