I find you everywhere
In places and in things
In people and in memories
Memories. What a beautiful and scary place to be stuck in.
The smell of grass takes me back
To that time, long ago
When we walked by the grass
Young hearts we were
Too young to understand
That moment would hunt us forever.
That's the thing about memories
At the time they were made
They were just moments
Like every other, nothing special
I guess the memories we look back to
Depend on how much we were hurt from it?
Remembering does not mean
That I wish to recreate these moments
Because even in my delusions
I know that the past can never be recaptured
I only wish I had known it then.
