Poet13's Blog

I cling to the past
I feel certain there is something important there
forgetting feels like betrayal or perhaps abandonment.

Life is one long process of walking away
turn your back face the future one way or the other
memory becomes an unwelcome passenger on the journey
a mute nag a silent rebuke hissing whispers of regret.

Embrace quasi-religious practices to purge it from your head
make an effort to master the art of selective amnesia
consciousness becomes a cure for everything outside the moment
the present resisting the onslaught of all time.

I make selfishness my means of survival
wrapped within this blanket of sentiment and nostalgia
I will smother to death.