Written by Jacob Ibrag
You grab the album of pictures. Haven’t
seen these in a while. It’s been collecting dust while
you’ve been collecting memories. Page after page you
begin to realize why you haven’t reached for them in all of
these years. They’re reminders, bullets hitting your psyche.
People you’ve lost touch with. Moments you wish you pushed
a little harder. That girl you should’ve never said goodbye to.
‘Good riddance,’ you whisper remembering that it was never
this perfect no matter what these images were trying to
say. You smile, knowing everything was in its right
place. Nothing is perfect, it isn’t supposed to be.
Images married to stunted prophecy.