Box of pictures underneath my bed,
Along with a few letters that I've never sent,
Unspoken words, a future blur,
After all the downs, It's better this way.
Reminiscing does no good,
And my imagination forgets to not paint you,
If only it was this easy for the flames,
But I forget that just like the ashes remain,
The memories stay.
Trying to burn you down does more harm than good,
After all, that toxic smoke, suffocate me under the hood.
Misunderstood, Can't get back what you took
After all those nights, it's better this way.
The good, the bad, the in-between,
I bid you farewell.
If only it was this easy for the flames,
But I forget that just like the ashes remain,
The memories stay.
YOU ARE READING
My Poetry Journal
PoetryWelcome to the diary of memories where I give memories their poetic magic and turn them everlasting! 🌟 READ MORE ON: @niveditasdiary (Instagram)
