Memories!

Memories I hate.

Without regard to the fact that they might be of the good kind.

Without regard to the fact that they may be of the bad kind.

Memories of hugs.

Memories of lovely words.

Memories of breakfast in the morning.

Memories of lovely Mexican mornings.

Memories of the wet dirt.

Memories of goodbyes.

Memories of the times I didn’t say goodbye.

Memories haunt me, the past haunts me.

The dead haunt me but not their ghosts

I don’t believe in ghosts.

Memories!

Memories!

Memories!

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