The Other Side of the Line

Memories are like lucky charms you'd want to wrap around your neck to remember them everytime you look at your reflection on the mirror, they're like the broken-winged butterflies that you hold in your palm and keep hoping beyond hope that they'd fly again.. They're the sweet carvings on the wall of your heart that will stay there even if your wounds are healed. Even if time washed away all your worries like the sand writings on the shore, the waves will keep coming and healing in the same way it did the first time. Memories are the fine line between what could have been and what really happened, they're like the dividing red line between this and that, one step back and you're left to reminisce and weep, half a step forward and you go back to your senses, to the reality that things are different here, on this side of the line.