a million images exist behind closed eyes.

some tormenting, some lovely, but all lies.

memories morph to shape our perceptions,

altering experiences into mere deceptions.

get a camera to capture the moment,

then find a human to feel what’s present.

but humans are flawed, variations continue.

repetition of the story leads the truth more askew.

words become useless, they become overused.

memories aren’t perfect, stop getting confused.

yet, i still aspire to achieve what cameras can do,

in the aspect that they’re capable of forgetting too.

erase my cache of the bad and the good,

allow me to start on a blank canvas for adulthood.

i would rather forget it all, than to live with some.

i want to close my eyes and just be numb.