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  • Writer's pictureKyx

with our last breath

with our last breath

i want us to remember

all the things that we said

from january to december

i’m just kidding;

our memory is more a sieve

than a camera, filtering out

events we’d never believe

happened: stupid arguments,

we look back on and laugh at

pointless fights, conflicts

“what was the use of all that?”

but as we lay where we die

mortal bones and flesh

with our souls slowly leaving

our brain wonders: is it best

to only recall the honeyed

scenes of love and camaraderie

or to also hold on to all that

hurt and loss, part of life’s memory

the blunder to the wonder,

the pain to the pleasure

the bitter to the sweet,

trash or not, they are still my treasure


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