WHAT WAS

A poem

At times, it's silent yet 
a volcano stirs in my chest.
I wonder if 
memories were perfectly stored, 
Would life become a burden 
too heavy to bear?

When a presence fades
it slips through our 
fingers like sand,
Every day, as new grain
settle in, they remain 
If we remembered
Every single thread,
Held too tightly
Wouldn't life be miserable?

To forget is a blessing, 
Allowing us to move forward, 
To continue breathing, 
While some memories are
the very breath we take 

         Flowing
in front of our eyes, 
For a moment
deeply running in our 
blood never replaced

Little by little, 
Our memories dim,  
Dimmed by nature’s  
      Subtleness
Leaving us with flashbacks
In fragments where emotions 
linger, where we imagine 
and remember 

A gift of their imperfection
as a reminder of what was!

_Thank you for reading🌻