Memories

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.