The past is like a spirit inside of me,
never leaving my side;
She takes the words out of my mind,
for maybe, I have said that before?
She puts new thoughts inside my head,
like I can’t generate anything myself, anymore;
She laughs at old jokes,
and sends ripples through time,
and I am obligated to laugh too;
She cries, for the hurts I have long forgotten,
She makes me feel the world, more;
In the comfort of her arms,
I prevail another day.
For all my lost time blossoms behind what she restores.
© soulreserve 2015