Some Memories Hurt the Same

when it always been there

i still feel it. and i guess, i will forever feel them on rough sleeves and your gray hooded cardigan you happen to keep in my drawers. even when i never want them running into my palms while slowly becoming something familiar, i would still remember it just like how it was before. and some days, i feel everything at once. at dark corners of a lonely streets with one light post that make shadows to passing strangers with their fleeting memories inside their heads or in places with the sounds of chirping birds in oak trees and bicycles on rough roads—it's traumatizing again. but other days it feels subtle. 

i don't know what's even worse but to its certainty... it hurts the same way. it hurts. the nostalgic smells of old fabrics in broke closets and dusty couches it feels like this. home feels nothing now but loud slamming doors and silent cries. rare to be constant comfort and untroubled which is why the reason i have found settlement in misery, longings and mourning when pain perhaps already lies in my skin. it stayed for a time or never leaves. i couldn't get rid of it anymore until then i reside all these somewhere i knew i would have at least forgotten that i was broken and untreated well.

and now that i felt it again, i remember how i loved more yet rarely understood and always ended in shattered. perhaps now i know why i was never used to of replacing and restarting is because i never recited the ways on how to forget. or maybe because, when we all rest assured to be all done with these scars and haunting, it never ends. it was there and never gone. and I'm tired from trying to forget when it always been there.

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SolenneDream.