Life is Fluid; Memories Are Fragile

In the beginning—

We're all screaming for the sake of attention, and are unable to have our needs heard without a fit

We put odds and ends into our mouths for the sake of exploration, because we don't know the world we've touched down in

Each step was a journey, each little thing we did celebrated, applause everywhere

We smiled and stared at the faces around us, and went to bed when our mothers and fathers cooed "hush"

In the middle—

We've spent our beginning miming and mimicking the people we grew up with, their influence shaping us moving forward

We pick up every detail, every little slip, and may or may not let the same cuss word slip through our lips

We went from fumbling, to crawling, and finally to walking about in a bigger and bigger space, looking for our place in this world where everything towers over

As we grow up and see our figure change in the mirror, we find that being different should be treated like a rare commodity

You're taught to blend in and fade into the background, because life, will be tough

Because I was told having darker skin, a broken family, and a broken mind is hard enough

My loneliness accumulating into tears, tears as cold as ice

When self-reliance was once a bitter satisfying spice

But there isn't an end—

Even though every story eventually has an ending, my story is still being written

Each moment another word, sentence, paragraph of time etched into my memory

But my mind is not a recorder, it is fickle and fragile as it picks and chooses what it keeps and what it loses

But there are things too hard to grasp, words on the tip of my tongue and my brow furrows because I can't recall, as my mind runs another trivial lap

To escape the memories that make my mind a TRAP!

Faces and places blending into a colored blur as the screams of time grows LOUDER and LOUDER as if there's a storm at the center of my brain!

An endless labyrinth of red that choked the hope from my body, for what I thought would be INDEFINITELY!

But then, within a second everything is lost within an instant, until depression calls upon it again...

Fragments of moments I can't explain—

Small chubby feet encased in the sands of Hawaii before I was two, dreams I mistook for reality—

How incomprehensible, abhorrent, and moronic is my brain? What faith can be put in memory? A jump from beginning to the middle, and the end, living in the moment is barely clear

Remember. Forget. Remembered. And then forgotten.

The things I remember of the past could be potential lies, because...

All I can truly recall is that time flies