it’s distant, but still,
a clamoring memory
in the back of my mind.
and i don’t know
if that’s a fortunate occurrence
or, are seasons just changing,
reality re-entering the lit mind
from the dark corridors it resided in.
i’m scared, you know, as
i still hold on with both hands.
a fistful of memory that i can’t seem
to forget, and a future that’s bright.
it helps less
that you start to hang on again,
like you care again,
when you feel me let you go.
will you really, draw me
into dark corridors and
again leave with the light?