know it's been over fifteen years,
But I still have trouble letting go.
Your death was all so sudden,
I should get over it, I know.
But I still love talking to you
like I would if you were here.
Because I'm still your little girl.
I just wish that you could hear.
All the conversations
that I whisper in the wind.
And read all my childhood letters
that I tried so hard to send.
I wish you could smell the flowers
that we put upon your grave.
And see all the many pictures
we put in a box and saved.
I wish you could talk right back to me
and tell me what to do.
I try to keep my feelings inside,
but is that what you would do?
