I am starting to forget you.

I only have the photos of you

when you were in highschool,

and when you were in your early 30’s.

They are only images.

Still images.

I don’t remember the way you sit

or the way you walk.

I don’t remember your voice

or your laugh.

I don’t remember any good,

I only remember the bad.

Now,

I know you don’t look

The way you did in highschool.

I know you have white hair,

wrinkles around your eyes,

and sun spots all over your body.

But sometimes I wish I could be with you,

and see you age.

I only have images.

Still images.