My memory is spotted,
vast emptiness otherwise scattered
with traumas and pinpoints
of happiness in a dusky life,
and it weighs these the same.
I am melting; the memories
I do have war against themselves
fighting to stay submerged -
or perhaps I'm the one
pushing them back down.
Somewhere I realize,
faded into another hour of thought,
this all will exist always
but I have room in there
for new things, too.
