Emilia Giulia Parma ✰ D10

I had a dream of you once; it lingers faintly like parmesan in my memory. Yet, your memory is crumbling feta, little slivers slipping out between my fingertips. Why can’t I remember, why won’t my brain work right? Is it because daddy has taken down the photos of you from our hallway walls ever since he met the other one? She tells me to call her mom, but she isn’t mine. No one could replace you, no matter how hard my brain wants it to be true. I just need to pick up the pieces and hold my wish true. They’re shoved into small boxes now that crinkle at the sides, too tall for me to reach. You don’t belong in that crammed, dusty coat closet of things long forgotten. I’m not ready to forget you yet. I’ll reach them someday, I’ll reach you and save you. And once I do, we can be together again. Just wait for me, okay?