……with memories being a problem………

That’s how I’ll be living now, with memories being a problem.
The real problem is that, those memories hit harder than anguish,
for those were the purest and deceased the anxiety within.
For me it was what I thought,
Raindrops on the head,
With feet in a pool full of regrets and imprecise notions.
Hair oiled with pity and hands trying to let go the grip over the weakened knees.
As I sat there the pool seemed to be a teal coloured ocean,
Exactly the way I considered small things to be a signal of perpetuity.
Finding happiness in little things seemed to be a lot more different than the delusion of glorifying other little things.
Never thought that memories could takeaway a lot from me, but they did, cause I let them.
Hindering on the soft wet sand I affirmed, with the inner voice loud and clear.
“Too much has been taken,
Too much is yet to be gone,
Too much is yet to be received,
Let this seep in, with fluidity and peace,
For you are all by yourself with expectations modest or none.

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