Memories are what make me happy.
The more I think
the more I realize how happy I used to be.
The pictures that I keep
show my smile.
A genuine smile that was invincible.
The pictures I keep
show laughing.
My eyes squinted,
smile pushing my cheeks upwards,
my dimples deep
as my teeth show a bright grin.
The pictures I keep
in color or
black and white,
monochrome.
The pictures I keep
from travel or
moments I wanted to cherish.
The pictures I keep
hang on my wall,
like little paintings of the past.
The pictures I keep
sit on objects,
my dresser or
desk,
holding a moment of time in a frame.
So many words can't even come close
to expressing how the images
make me feel.
My eyes gaze upon them
and I am back in that moment.
I am back in that second;
the very second in which I was smiling
in a photo booth,
making outrageous faces at the camera
before the flash clicks
and my image is saved.
I am in that exact time frame
from where I stepped into the photo booth
to where I exited with photos in hand.
In those few seconds,
where I reimagine a time I had lived
and loved,
I become the cheerful teen that had
enjoyed those very moments.
YOU ARE READING
Where Are My Words?
PoetryMy new poems because my last ones sucked. I went to a slam and was introduced to so many great writers, thought I should start again.
