Poisonous Nostalgia (Poem)
That familiar lane termed memory,
On knees pleading for genesis to return,
Voicing whispers through nectars of melody,
Rhythms pumped into cardiac burns.
Experience perseveres questioning what-ifs,
Scenarios resurrecting times gone,
Ropes of hearts are difficult in cutting,
Firmly holding whatever it deems to belong.
The insecurities yell at my direction,
How faces that once cared grew to be impartial,
Only through anaesthesia; or the souls dissection,
do dreams tease of would-be’s and vague answers.
Now photos, and videos on playback,
The realities that became animated no longer,
Endless lost needles thrown in grown haystacks,
Stinging as the heart seeks and it ponders.
The unknown may be beautiful once it becomes known,
Climbing destiny’s unpredictable ladder,
But to have been once known… and then be rendered as unknown,
Is to fall victim to a poisonous nostalgia.