tripping back

i stand rooted to the spot

blank and staring into the void
the mind whirling in a cesspool
my finger on rewind


and the hourglass is turned upside down
time trickling backwards
the sand making it back to my fists
i hold tight once again


the past is once again with me
a brick of a dead weight
hard and unyielding and stupid and stubborn
happy and hurting at the same time


it's like holding a thorny rose
soft petals and bloody pricks
red of the rose, red of the blood
difficult to distinguish the two


i stand rooted to the spot
blank and staring into the void
holding a heavy past in the mind
hearing and seeing and breathing the now


and i choose to let go
i've been there and done that
all the good things and the bad
but there's a lot left to do


i'll be my past
and it will stay with me
but at the end of it all
i'll just be me

the invisible yesterdays

trudging through a forest of people

we wade through a sea of faces

all the people we've met

all the people we've been

the people who talked in awkward pauses

and the people who chattered endlessly

the people who fought so hard they cried

and the people who laughed after every fight

the people who stole nervous glance at each other

and the people who couldn't stop staring

the people who loved each other

and the people who loved some more

but now they are all strangers

in a world of sepia yesterdays

we are what we are today

two lovers holding hands together

Pic by Basu.