Words left Unsaid

memory

The thing about memories is that
You can't choose what part of it will stay.

It can be both reminiscing and painful.
It's either a home or a prison.

And every time I thought I'm finally healed, the pain from the past keep me awake.
It felt just like yesterday.

While chasing my breath, I realized
I'm not free, I'm just running away.

And no matter how far I run,
That memory will keep on chasing me
Until I can no longer go any further.

Four corner.
I sat down, giving up.
I'm tired.
I'm tired letting myself be a prisoner of the past.

Maybe I can never be healed
But I'm hoping that if that memory hunts me again,
I won't be suffering in pain.

Instead,
I can finally accept it.
I won't run nor hide.
I will greet it just like an old visitor
and say hi.

ceniza_ink