I don’t know how people can delete whole albums of pictures. Don’t they get it? Are those pictures just illusions, a combination of colours captured on an electronic device?
Don’t they know? That when you can’t turn back time, and feel too trapped in the present to think of anything nice; you can look at them and laugh while looking your 13 year old dork self?
Don’t they know? That instead of just capturing people’s faces, they capture what their hearts were feeling in that very moment?
Don’t they know? That when you’ve lost all hope and all your purity, you can look at them and remember the sweet taste of innocence you once had; and after realising that you still have a little bit of that five- year old inside you, you can carry on.
That those aren’t just pictures, they’re memories.
That those aren’t just pictures,
They’re pieces of your heart.
A Bunch Of Words 