Fading From View, Fading From Sight

 Countless times,

I attempt to count,

moments lost in minutes,


and days,

a touch,

a kiss,

a fleeting glance,

memories that were once burned to my synapses,

but like all things,

they were born to die away with time,

so now I sit here as everything falls,

reading words on paper written in pen,

my memories I’d write down hoping in some way to stay the rot,

to keep them alive in my brain,

but now as I read the words over and over again,

I ask the question that I’m told I always ask,

are they really mine

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