Kept in the basement of my soul, pictures of memories live. They come back at the level of my mind, screaming the hurt that the past let live. The pain that crawled inside these memories long ago, shifting the nature of these pieces of time. Before I even knew it, everything I thought was good turned into black, shallow fragments of the life I had once. A life with other people I never thought would be gone one day from my feelings of love. These broken up memories are spoiling inside of me. The resentment of what it was is stronger than these segments. I wished you stayed in my memories.
I wished they never came back up where I could feel the hurt coming back.
YOU ARE READING
Tales of my mind
Short StoryHi there ! This is just a bunch of stories I write in my bedroom while listening to Conan Gray and Olivia Rodrigo :) They tell tales of love, loneliness and feelings, emotions that can be very present in my life, and probably yours too.
