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I lose myself in memories,

Surround myself in thought,

Surrendering to the ricochets,

Of dreams that came to nought,


I drown myself in apathy,

Immerse myself in languor,

Submitting to the uncertainty,

Of choices made in anger,


I shade myself in monochrome,

Portray myself in neutral,

Concealing the imperfections,

Of my colours, far too truthful.

Looking Through The Glass

I stand on the outside,

And peer through the glass,

Through layers of dust,

And fingerprints past,

Through echoes of time,

That patina the glaze,

And ghosts in the corners,

That memories raise,

Through embers of sunlight,

That dance on a wall,

And prisms of colour,

That waltz and then stall,

Through laughter and sadness,

And all that we shared,

Through living and loving,

And the secrets we bared.


I stand on the outside,

And everything’s changed,

But this was my yesterday,

And it’s forever ingrained.




Several things happened,

On the journey to now,

Yet it’s hard to remember,

The when and the how,

The picture book images,

Of where we have been,

The people we have met,

And the faces we’ve seen,

The scent of a memory,

That clings in the air,

Like the smell of the ocean,

Or the smoke of the fair,

The touch of a keepsake,

The rattle of a charm,

The taste of excitement,

Of not knowing harm,

The echoes we carry,

We store deep within,

For everything must end,

For something to begin.