gigi

Rain is like the dripping memories 

A mud puddle is like confusion 

A dream is like a trance 

Fog is like clouded thoughts 

A mountain is like a deck of cards 

Busy as a clock 

Happy as the moon 

Big as a yell 

Scary as darkness 

Gentle as the stars 

Fast as time 

Loud as a conversation spoken without words 

The tree line grows nearer but I feel nothing but fear

Fear of what lays beyond the tree line 

Beyond safety 

Beyond light 

Maybe even beyond reality 

Why must memories never last?

Are they nothing but the past? 
Or maybe they are just there to grasp 

Grasp for the moment not the hour 

Until they stack like a tower 

I am from the cold conditions 

The conditions you can’t feel your hands where the wind whistles and wipes 

I am from the rocking sea witch provides comfort when need be 

The attic always talks almost like it walks,

The sound echoes over and over always  getting bolder

The attic's always right, time to think twice, for when you do you feel blue