Whenever a footprint
Must be rewound

I find I lack a will
To look around

Photos take me back
In time all at once

Sounds of my souls
Echo like a movie

I lean back in my seat
As memories set scene

Set sail
And turn me pale

With grief for all the
Dead memories buried

For all the angsty
Fucked up metaphors

I’ve seen connect
In the film strips

How many more yarns
Of possible pathways

Must yet be cut

What questions
Never answer

Closure never closed
Threads of a frame

To be
Stripped out

Published by Jake Thomas Shaw

Concerned with memory, currency, and destiny, I strive to capture each one as they happen. Join me and consume reality! Radio Reality. City!

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