memory

I hardly exist in your world anymore; memories are fading, who said they last forever? I have pictures of you and I think of you but sometimes I wonder who is that person; I have another past with people whom I don't know. I don't want to judge myself for the decisions I've made. I am judged enough by the world. I should hold what little space the cave inside me allows as sacred and not tarnish its walls with smoke from my ego. Please, you, do the same.