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
A shooting star is like a dream you can never have
A friend is like a stab in the back you love
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
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