"Memories" - A Free Verse

Revealing itself to me,
was it a dream? An illusion?
Or a suppressed memory?

Feels like the present.
The edge of pain.
I bury it,
preserve it
from perverse
penetrating vision.

Incapacity to deal,
pushing it aside,
I discard it.

Intense living
forced these
repressed memories
to life.

Not an illusion,
not delusion.

Memories
they haunt me all the time.