they say it’s not healthy to live in the past
I don’t live in the past
I just piece together parts of the past
that stood isolated when those parts were
present.
As the present approaches, the past rapidly grows.
each moment etched permanently in my skull,
yet fleeting in their vibrant, ethereal drops.
I only wish to somehow relive, not the events
or the specific instances, but the pieces
of my past, that so effortlessly, endlessly, helplessly,
float away.
