They are terrible bastards they pick at you until they expose your corrupted flesh careful to attack the softest and most putrid parts; a relentless nemesis, a constant friend I reach out to them if I stretch far enough I can touch them, with the tips of my fingers I almost, feel them. One floats by and it stares at me it comes to me. Coming at me. I peek around a memory wall. It becomes clearer. Just when I think I am ready, to step out of the shadows and embrace it - a searing pain pierces my heart tears at my flesh. I retreat. Not yet, not yet, too much, too soon. too much has happened too little time has passed. I thought I had done enough, not enough it seems. I had not smiled, laughed or played enough, to tear them from me. When I think of you the shape of your smile, so pure... A mole there that reveals all my secret, beauty engraved - no! Branded in my mind on my DNA. It enriches now the soil I too will one day return to. But not even there will I escape them. So here in my corner I huddle, I will content myself with watching each sliver from a far. Not yet! I cannot look too deeply in the well of my memories. But they are there, and they are my comfort.