these are not memories…
they are hauntings.
     the faces are featureless
     the writing is blank
     no heart is readable
     all senses are bled

i have pain in all places,
symmetrical suffering,
the effects of time travel
to this landscape i knew.

this before is a waste,
all doomed to roam,
i want to turn back
though my paces are gone.

the compass won’t spin
in this timelessness…
the company of strangers
is cold but of use.

oh the moments we had,
these unknown ones and i…
now they bring cups to no mouths
and sway to unplayed songs.

don’t come to this sp...

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