Very sad little poem. I like the conflict between memory and reality, as well as between what the speaker wants to do (move on) and the seeming impossibility of the task.

For some reason this reminded me of something Ellen Hopkins would write (if you don’t read her work, it’s very good).
She has a style where it’s very simple but the words speak miles

Very sad, but good

Burned by Ellen Hopkins is my favorite book. Apparently it has influenced my writing style, I had not realized that!
Thank you for pointing it out.