Fading away in the time cycles,
Long forgotten yet still dearer,
An image of my younger self,
Exists within deep pockets of a tattered purse.
Thank you for holding on together,
Taking me to an old period,
Of memories I cut from my soul,
With a ribs bone I sharpened to a carving knife.
Last evening, I was missing my old self.
The one who loved and lived to the fullest,
Regretting my heinous crime,
Of cutting a part of me that was very much me.