Paper-thin Memory


Started with a bonfire
On a lonely November night
Walking over barbwire
Without any end in sight

I sang in a sandpaper voice
And read aloud prose at midnight
We started our own little town
Smiled when the rain poured down
And there we were
Alone again

It is just a paper-thin memory
Like notes blasted into oblivion
We were meant to collapse
Into a pile of dark, meaningless ash

And now the day is back
It’s snaking its way through the abandoned town
Flooding moss-covered, moth-laid homes
Like a river off-track

It is just a paper-thin memory
Of everything we’ll ever be
It will go down like a train-wreck
And people will say, ‘Who was that?

So now I stand stoically
Watching time pass by in chunks
Just a vivid image stuck in my mind
Of how beautiful it can all be

It is just a paper-thin memory
Like an ancient painting in a gilded frame
Of a utopia that will never be
Because anonymity is our final destination

I take snapshots and hang them
In a dark room, watching them fade
I won’t go down that road ever again
Of thinking this is more than an illusion

Because it is just a paper-thin memory
A dying weight across my shoulders
When the stars die and the rocks fly
We’ll be gone before the next dawn

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2 thoughts on “Paper-thin Memory

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