Memories

Thanks for the memories.
The ones in obscurity and the ones bathed in sun
Theses are what help me remain human.
These picture that replay in my mind when I make mistakes.
The graphic horrors of what had happened make me flinch.
But these help me not relive my past mistakes.
I also have the memories that bask in the warmth that is my heart.
Those are ones that remind me that everyone I know and I are worth loving.
A painting hung on the museum that is my head.
That image that I hold dearest.
It helps me know that I shouldn’t give up on myself.
That I shouldn’t let anyone walk all over me.
So thank you for the all these memories hung on the museum that is my heart

This poem is about: 
Me

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