I take a mental tour of the house I grew up in
Some of it detailed, oozing with colour
others blurred or pixelated out
memories worn down by years and decades
replacing items with ones from my schema
I watch my feet walk but they make no sound
An absolute stillness, everything frozen
a whole world of memories but noone to share them with
going back in time just to find nothing there
just static, empty air
everyone’s walked out of the room and they’re not coming back
so I’ll just sit here in this timeless empty memory that it feels I’m the only one chasing
like if I could just fill in the gaps I’d be fixed [at least, no longer broken]
like I’m chasing something that might not be there
but regardless it pulls me in its mouth, devours me
so I keep on chasing
visiting
remembering.