Facing unexpected events
I found myself retracting and pulling back
Into the weird spaces that live
In my mind

These spaces are a mixture of childhood recollections
Fantasies and moments of self-realization
Scenery
Smells
Feelings
Colours

They function as a comforting blanket
That keeps the whole of myself as a unit
Connecting to its self in time and space

I think this is what memories are to all humans

But within my comforting blanket
I keep finding errors and false stories that
Feel real

Do we ever know if something is real or not?

I found myself examining more and more

The little bits of my memories,
I couldn’t tell if something has truly happened
Or if it was something
I dreamt of.

Psychologists say
“Memory is a construction of what you actually recall
And what you believe happened”.