Collecting dust in the corner,
memories of who I once was
and hoped to be,
stand stagnant
letting the castaway remnants of air
settle, and find a new home.

Layer upon layer,
compressing those beneath,
perhaps eventually
stratifications will appear through the dusty clouds.
Memories, all visible,
stacked on top of the other.

Remove one layer at a time,
clean and polish the surface.
When memories have turned to dust
it’s time to let them go.