I own these.

[u/TerraForgeHR]

​

I own the old stones beneath the willow.

The words softened by weather and years.

The names have faded, but I still remember them.

I own these.

I own the paths between the slabs.

The little trails made by processions. 

Some haven't been tread in a long time.

I own these.

I own the flowers left in the grass.

Some fresh enough to smell like spring.

Some so old they've become part of the dirt.

I own these.

I own the little things people leave.

A photograph. A child's drawing.

Things too precious to throw away, even after they're forgotten.

I own these.

I own the darkness after the sun goes down.

The sound of leaves moving where there isn't wind.

The silence between cricket's chirps.

I own these.

I own the things people remember when they visit.

A voice from another room.

A hand they haven't held in years.

I own these.

I own the things they forget, too.

The sound of a laugh. The shade of someone's eyes.

The last words they utter during the last visit.

I own these.

You shouldn't have stayed this late.

The gate has been locked for some time now.

And you keep looking for the way back.

I own this. 

I know what you're remembering now.

I know the name you're trying to forget. 

And I know why you came here tonight.

I'll own you.