The Writer

That’s the thing about memories
unlike you
they come back
again and again and again

The happy ones are easy
almost teasing
we tango across time
The tune left forgotten
as I swing to the warmth
a mere mirage 
of the ghostly shadows

It’s the difficult ones I fear
memories
sad, fearful, full of pain
one by one
all at once
they come

Remember how I loved a good tragedy
well only here, it’s my story
someone wrote it for me
and like my rereads,
I live them,
again and again and again

I wait for them to go away
But that’s the thing about memories
Unlike you
They refuse to leave me
In my own captivity
I revel