headspace

Why is it that you can never think of those fond memories,
Until its too late?
When they’ve packed up,
Waved goodbye, one finger in the air,
Taking your heart with them,
Leaving grief and heartache, or…peace and serenity in some cases,
Still, the memories swim away until you can’t touch the one that made,
Once they’re long gone,
Only then do they resurface,
As though buried by the mundane, the pettiness of everyday life,
They linger just enough to retrace,
But you can’t think too long about them,
Lest they fade far from your mind,
And all you have to hold onto are the last thoughts,
Entangled with the words you wished you could take back,
And the ones you were glad you screamed,
Because they were such fond, fond memories,
You can only miss them when they’re no longer around.