Memories

Heavy lies these hearts,

Examining the parts between 

What should have been.

Sitting wondering what could we have been?

It sounds out a cry,

These long forgotten lullabies,

Yet not to comfort our sleep,

But to soften the drop into reality. 

As a child, attachment was missing,

Each moment spared by the arrival of another,

And the so infinite spectrum of feeling time never slows.

As the teen, the clock wraps its arms around our minds, yet exploration never leaves these times, we become pressed to remember the story between these lines.

Every thought is numbed by the flow of life, 

And we're left questioning if anything we did prepared us.

A question dropped as age approaches, and in an instant, adulthood saps our passions and turns our dreams into methods of survival.

Answers, constantly crawling for answers.

Time stops.

Heavy lies these hearts.

We no longer have each detail, 

Memories are just faded examples of intricate moments to which we cannot remember what they entail. 

Each memoir now exists, as

A reminder.

What could have been..

What

Should.

Have.

Been.