pictures only hold so much

I tried to hold on to you,
but my mind let you slip from my memories
and now all I have are pictures
of a woman I don’t remember
and barely recognize.

You see, in my hands
I hold nothing
because nothing is what I am left with without you

and I wish I could still recall
your lips on mine,
your body pressed close,
or how it felt to hold your hand in my own,

but I can’t and I never will,

but the pictures tell a story
that I wish I remembered
because I know
that you meant something to me
and I know I meant something to you. 

I know you were mine and I was happy to be yours.

I just wish pictures held more than images
and I wish minds held more than holes.