You come crawling into my dreams
like an uninvited insect on a summer night
slightly buzzing, trying to be unnoticed.
Or are you really?
I've shun you off my day-life,
now that you seldom appear,
but you've managed to get in my dreams
making me get face-to-face with the reality
that you are asleep, in my sub-conscience,
always spawning in me webs of memories.
The brown-yellowish still-photographs in the eyes' retina
swarm my dormant mind and the child, that same child,
comes to me, to my arms again, as it did in a distant past.
I thought I was cured, but memories can't be deleted
especially when they're carved in our chest
with the darkest ink of pain and sorrow.
Something will always feel broken inside my heart
but I'm still hoping I can make it better
by mending it with patches of happiness
and plentifulness that are yet to come...
Still, I couldn't ever tell why hope lingers above all evilness,
still I couldn't ever tell why the memories still haunt me now and then.