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
The tower slowly falls until it sprawls
The sprawl becomes a mess that forces you to confess
Confess the memory’s that leave you stressed
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
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