Jul 24


They float around like bubbles. 
A few seconds, in this case a few years later they pop.
We forget.
They just float away like storm clouds.
Then every once in a while,
They float back.
Pouring down on us.
But sometimes we hang on.
Like a balloon, floating up to space.
But it doesn't.
But sometimes we float with it.  Just hanging on, not wanting to let go.
Stuck in our own world.
Stuck in time.
The memories won't go away.
They just fade.
Like a rainbow.
Colorful and bright at first.  Then barley able to see at all.
They are kind of like air.
Unable to see.  But still hanging there right next to us.
Always there.
Waiting to be opened.
Like a banana waiting to be peeled.
Not wanting to turn brown.  Not wanting to fade away.
But when the banana does turn brown.
It can be turned into banana bread.  It can be made into new memories.
Like recycling, I could go on an on.