i live in memories.
like a dried flower,
i am pressed between the crackling pages
of an old novel that no one reads anymore.
but i am there.
i am there;
i am trapped there.
am i trapped there?
i am there.
i can see the sights,
hear the sounds,
taste the food,
smell the air,
feel it.
i breathe it in,
bask in its glory.
the story is unraveling before me
but i don’t want it to end.
i want to stay here.
the beauty of a memory
is that we never remember
the bad parts.
we are forever trapped in a world
of happy endings.
Screen Shot 2017-03-27 at 1.01.43 PM

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s