Holding On
There are memories I hold close, moments I cherish. Yet someone in those memories tore me away, or perhaps I was the one who did.Even so, my affection for those moments has never faded. When I recall them, I still find traces of happiness. So I keep trying to stitch myself back into those memories, hoping to restore what was once whole, knowing it can never be the same. The seams remain visible, and the act itself feels uneasy, as though I no longer belong.
So I try to remove myself once again, but “hold on” to them, since I cannot let go of the memories themselves.

