Nostalgic for nothing definite.
More like a feeling, or a version of me I'll never be again
and yet always am.
Moments slip away and return in unexpected bursts
of memory that leave me breathless.
There is a universe inside of me,
and it is my own.
I fight to let it out
while I reinforce its walls with whispers and rage
This is private
Beware of hungry hounds
and misappropriated affection
and remove your shoes and inhibitions
before entering.
This is a warning, this is a welcome
this is home.
No comments:
Post a Comment