Erasing

Erasing the wrongs of my past.

Erasing the people who have caused me pain.

Erasing the slight mistakes on my paper.

Erasing the picture that doesn’t look perfect enough.

Erasing the death and grief of the loss of my loved ones.

Erasing the embarrassing experiences I keep reliving.

Look how much I have erased.

Most of my life.

I’ve realized I don’t remember the good stuff.

Only the bad.

The bad of which I’ve learned from.

Why erase?

Why not keep going?