She is,but just a memory

she is but just a memory not even words could explain it not even the mouth could utter words The mind was blank yet the heart was full The eyes had so much to tell,but had no voice not even the mind understood at that moment it was as though the emotions weren't invented from the brain It felt like the morning after the burial it felt like a part of her was left behind if only people had met the younger version of her They sure would have enjoyed her The happy her The active her The innocent her The child her The her that still hoped believed but the older she gets the more she forgets her younger self The older she gets,the more of a fading memory she becomes to her brain The older she gets,the more of a shell she becomes The older she gets,the more empty she becomes The older she gets,the more the light in her darken The older she gets...does she even know herself? but this is earth isn't it?