It’s these memories that haunt us
remind, confine, and shape us
Love, faith, betrayal, and death
are all elements that have dug
a permanent grave in our
cognitive cemeteries,
six feet deep in those feelings
of despair and regret

And those memories make
their presence known,
clawing at the top of the coffin,
trying to escape the grips of
earth that surrounds
their holding place

And no matter how high
of a mound we pile on top of it,
rain and wind slowly withers away
our efforts of concealing
those demons of ours

Their pathetic cries
seep through the cracks,
reminding us
of our broken pasts.

But we must take this
as an opportunity of growth,
because the more we suppress
those pestering cries
that try to make us
retrace our steps
to that grave sight we swore
we would never visit again,
the easier it will be
to shed light on those
living things that give
us purpose in life