Do Places Have Memories (poem)

one summer 
i set out
to find something
that i thought was lost
or at least
forgotten
an old me, a new me, 
maybe just,
me
i felt far away to myself
an observer 
an echo
cut adrift from life
lost in 
(memories
grief
things said,
and unsaid
and which cut
deeper
and did it
matter
blood is blood
and oh, how i had bled
and do old hurts heal
how
and
when
and,
ever)

i touched the bottom of the ocean
pulled up fistfuls of sand
from the sea floor
let it drift through my fingers
and as i watched it 
thought, 
reaching the bottom 
can be beautiful

i stood 
on an empty peak
and pulled up red dirt
from the mountains
let it drift through my fingers
and thought,
there are some things that remain
and maybe
maybe,
i can choose what stays
i can choose to stay

do places have memories
do they hold onto
a little bit of us
when we go
and do some 
places
write a song
on your soul

and maybe that’s why
some places 
(even places we’ve never been, in this life)
are familar
without being known
why some places
(without reason or rhyme)
feel
like home

free.
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