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Eighty Twenty
by
7 Birches
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I’ll be damned, to let this fade. Vividity blurs, every pa**ing day All my time, pa**es by. Precious moments, slip my mind. Life feels empty, I'll forget. Smoke you exhaled, smoke you kept How have my memories shaped who I am when the tides of sleep pull them like grains of sand? Try as I may to find something firm to hold to, each thought elusive as the head that they breeze through Face once vivid, left my head. Recall discussions, not what was said. All these moments, try to grasp but in the process, lose the last, lose the last Some smoke never leaves, hold it in, I choke How have my memories shaped who I am when the tides of sleep pull them like grains of sand? Try as I may to find something firm to hold to, each thought elusive as the head that they breeze through
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