Those memories

I will treasure our memories

Like feathers- tucked away

Between book pages.

Like precious shells, colored

Glass pieces, marbles, and 3 D cards,

In a tiny cardboard box.

Like balloons, from the exhibition,

Tied to the gate,

For fear, they would fly away.

They may some day.

If I don’t hold them tight enough,

Or metamorphose them

To words. To scars.

That you learn to rub unconsciously,

On rainy days and freezing nights.

They may vanish.

I need them. For myself.

To remember, That I was happy once,

That I was loved,

That there was a someone,

Whose face would brighten,

On seeing mine.

That feelings would lessen pain,

That simple things could brighten a day.

And joy could be complete.

I need to remember,

That happiness

Was a touch of a finger,

A shoulder to rest your head on,

And making up after a fight.

So I’m going to catch those memories,

And tie them with little strings to the moon.

Engrave them on my skin, like tattoos.

I’m going to transform them into poetry,

Paint them into pictures,

Hide them in the nerve connections,

In the labyrinth of my brain cells.

Till I become one with them,

and they become part of me.



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