Memories are funny in some ways. They linger onto something, somewhere, always in the back of your mind, choosing to appear when you need it the least. When you need them the most though, they're just gone for some vague reason. There are moments in life you'd give anything to remember. You know, the ones you keep holding onto for dear life, afraid that if you loosen the grip, just a tiny bit, they all disappear. Vanish almost. Falling into a darkness that you're afraid to approach. To look into. To touch. I keep thinking I dropped them. I lost them. I forgot them. Because, no matter how hard I try to remember, I can't seem to understand why I was shattered. Why I corrupted into these minuscule pieces, all too small to glue back together. Nerves tell us about fate and how we never see it coming. Time passes rapidly when you try to avert yourself from falling over. Stumbling down. Submerging. Standing between your past and future, trying to find a steadier footing. Something to grasp onto when the roller coaster reaches its peak. Troubled heartbeats fade into a still rhythm, trembling fingers showing its shade. The past turning obscure when thinking back on it. Fragments of people coming and going, leaving no signs of light for me to find, no faces for me to scrutinize, no fingers for me to unconsciously stroke. Only questions I've ever known to resolve. Memories, pictures that hold a future, a feeling, a fortress, or all of the above composed into a scenery. A location you keep close to your heart. Sacred moments or haunted recollections. They're all here, inside of me. Burning on the inside of my eyelids. Crawling underneath my skin, pushing and pulling, screaming for the attention I many times, have chosen to deny. I know where they are. Because it’s all I ever see. A picture, an image, a canvas in my thoughts, a snapshot in my head, and it says more than a thousand words. It says everything.