Fleeting Things That Disappear

Before my memories wander,
i reach out and grasp what is important to me.
The memories that have slept forever
and are now slowly waking up.
The cloudless sky bombarded
with emotions and ideas-
                                    (ideas,like rats,running through my head,
                                      chewing on what i want to keep and
                                        leaving the rest alone)
All that remains is the pieces i
wanted to fade in the dying leaves of autumn.
For emotions deeply hidden are now
fresh in my memory.
And before the moment of tears
i silently curse that of memories.
                                                (memories,like grenades,blowing me
                                                   off my feet and leaving me
                                                     a wounded solider.)
But in the water i call time
those memories mourn for me.
Because now i'm not there
and they are mine.
Like children i can never completely
let them out of my sight.
                                   (sight,like pain,sucking out all of my strength
                                     stealing my mind and showing what i don't
                                       want to see.)
I can never fully let them
go and i hate it.
But they're mine and must learn
to love them.
These memories cry out for me
and i don't want to take them.
                                           (them,like hell,wanting all of me,
                                              taking what they have no right
                                               to take and feeding to the demons.)
I want them to leave like they once
did,never to be seen again.
But thats all a fantasy and
now i have to deal with it.
They have looked for me and have found
a way to resurface.
                           (resurface,like pests,buzzing around my head,
                             bothering me to no end drinking my blood
                              like its theirs.)
And it hurts something you
hate so close to your heart.
How i wish they would escape
the darkness i call my mind.
But wishful thinking isn't
getting me anywhere.
                              (anywhere,like paradise,giving me all i
                                  need,giving me control and freeing
                                      my mind.)
Memories are made and journies
are taken.
And this is one i never wanted to take.