May 26, 2020
3 min read
A poem on the lingering past
The Memory That Haunts Me
The memory that haunts me —
in my dreams, in my reality, in my parallel universe even —
lingers in the stagnation of the airs surrounding me,
as if awaiting its proper timing in which to intrude upon my life,
bringing with it feelings of disgust and remorse and obsession;
this memory driving a wedge between the past and the present,
obscuring the truth before my own…
