Home in my memory:

In my mind, I ask, what’s real and what’s not?

In my memory, the surroundings shift with time.

In my memory, with a flick of a switch, it floods in, the bright light letting me see.

In my mind I ask: What’s still real and what’s not. I beg it wouldn’t change with time. But it does.

In my life, I feel confused, amd I happy or sad? Angry? Or have the emotions not settled in yet?

Carpets and rough celings stay unshifted in my mind and I can still remeber the touch.

In my mind I ask, for the blurry memories what’s still real and what’s not?

By Brynn 🙂

(If you want to comment on the poem, I would really like feedback and your interpretations)