Memories

Some stick.

Some fade.

Sometimes, everything you know

vanishes.

Somedays, you come face to face with

them.

Somedays, you sprint away.

Somedays, you beg for a glimpse

of what was and

will never be again.

Sometimes, you freeze because you feel one surfacing–

you squint a little,

and torque your face.

You rack your brain to piece together

the flood of thoughts detached from pictures.

You then find yourself overthinking–

growing frustrated,

rapidly breathing,

and then…

crying.

You give up.

You give up the chase.

You accept the defeat.

You tell yourself, “That memory must not have been for me.”