You wake up.

Envision a room, walls are all white No doors, one window, and blackness outside

You sit on the floor, letting time pass Wait for a good memory to be had

Words slip through the window and into the room They scatter around like they’re morning dew

You look at the drops They’re memories, they’re thoughts You touch one, it bursts And what comes out is words

This one is good, from when you were nine And dad put a hose at the top of a slide The summer sun smolders Beats down on your shoulders Mind void of the fear of getting older

You touch the next droplet, a memory comes out Describing a bleak sky of solid gray clouds Something lands by your side You look up at the sky You’re witness to hail for the very first time

Two good memories, you’re doing well Third time’s a charm, so what the hell You touch one more drop, and you’re pushed away As a scene of an argument forms in your wake

Two silhouettes, a boy and a girl Yelling is garbled, can’t make out a word You take a step closer And that girl: you know her It’s your ex, your relationship’s over

And one bad memory triggers another Look round the room, you see it’s covered In screwups, bad thoughts and blunders And all the good droplets are gone and smothered

And all the memories overwhelm you They scream and they shout and they all try to tell you

You could have done better, and you’re a lost cause And you pass out, black out from these thoughts

You wake up.

Envision a room, walls are all white No doors, one window, and blackness outside

You sit on the floor and you’re filled with dread Waiting for droplets to come in again.