Leech

Sucking the life out of a memory
She has become comfortable there.
Like a crutch
She leans on its every punctuation
Pressing down and holding, hoping she can surpass the end of the line.
Reminiscing is her epithet
It will be the death of her--of other thoughts
There's no room for alternate opportunities.
She has replaced other possibilities with a stump--stubbornly unmoving.
Holding on tight, her fingers cramp from years of recollection.
Easing up on her grasp only slightly, allowing small breaks every now and then
She refuses to believe in dissipation.
Dwindling fractions are sore from the motion of jerking back.
She doesn't know how to let go
She can't understand why she should
She reminds herself of the good days...
Can't let go
Need to breathe
Lest I die of starvation