I've been going back on the past, 
Reading emails that seem to last, 
Hurting me down to the depths of my soul, 
Don't know why it's creating a hole, 
Wish i wouldn't do it, but still i do, 
Words getting stuck as if covered in glue, 
Don't want to delete them nor to forget, 
The memories woven deep jus seem to upset, 
For now i'll keep a scrapbook, of all the things been said,
To look back on later and see if the words are dead, 
That is what i do, no matter what people think, 
For none of them can see how deep they make me sink, 
A scrapbook of memories, trapped in a small black book, 
Nobody but one that i might let have a look, 
For now it remains hidden from everyone else, 
An ongoing project not left on the shelf, 
Occasions remembered, feelings restored, 
Things in my mind that i need to record, 
So there i will leave it and add to it soon, 
But never in daylight, just under the moon.