A Drawer Of Memories

Every memory that crosses my head, 
Lands there.
Every romance, every thread and every beautiful thing,
Handfuls of happiness beneath the haze,
Afternoons of eternity,
Stay, or leave their image behind with a sorrowful little wave.

Every time I look inside,
My mind goes blank, the alarm is on.
But that's what I see every time I close my eyes,
And my heart ceases to beat.
Every time I try, I'm scared beyond death.
To open the album of my life.
For there are angelic terrors inside.
The borderline.

11 thoughts on “A Drawer Of Memories

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