i am haunted by sticky memories.
churning through an obsessed mind, they swirl into one another, clinging to the sides like forgotten socks in the dryer.
they melt and morph and merge, distorting into something unrecognizable. inevitably, something small slips out of place, everything cascading with it. the memories fracturing into tiny shards. i can catch my reflection in a few, if the light hits them right. i measure my steps carefully, for fear i will cut myself on their edges.
yet some memories are soft with blurred boundaries. through the cracks, warmth seeps in: a familiar song, the smell of clean sheets, inside jokes. wishes on eyelashes, dandelions, birthday candles. a smile, a kiss, a picnic.
the warmth holds me in a tight embrace, sheltering me for a moment. i write the joy down on little pieces of paper, sealed in a mason jar.
stuck between holding on and letting go,
i am afraid of forgetting.