Bittersweet Nostalgia

Sometimes you find yourself in these nostalgic moments

Separated from your birthplace, your roots

Your roots never leave you, always with you

Not far enough to put it behind you

Not close enough to touch it, to smell it

Just like that first true love, you carry the memory forever

You smell their scent some years later

In a crowded party

The scent triggers all the memories

The good, the bad

In a cruel unfair way

It triggers just the good ones

And the yearning begins, tangles around your heart

Like string of yarn does to fingers

Leave marks

In this case though

The marks are permanent

Nostalgia is that bittersweet pain

Reminds of you a wholesome past

A hollow present

Unknown tomorrow, future

Your old town

Smell of old gasoline and hot fresh bread

On those misty autumn mornings

The stubborn red stains left behind

From juicing the pomegranates in between your palms

The crowded streets of your childhood

Like the memory of an old lover you playback

In the darkness of your room

You can still close your eyes

And taste the sweetness

Of that first kiss left behind on your tongue

Sometimes you find yourself in these nostalgic moments

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