turn the taps off, the sink is flowing overly,
the dirty dishes inviting parasites to feed upon me.
tear the paper lockers, you hid under table
to find souvenirs from grandma’s fables.
wiped the slate clean, but you still own yearbook;
you read it alone annually.
packed uniform in coffer, but you stitched a button
on hankie like crown jewelry.
memories are pandora's box
you can't open without getting a scuff.
memories are schrodinger’s mate
if you touch, they fade away.
echo in head before you sleep,
get you rolling in your deepest fears,
ask to meet in darkest alleys.
your school’s name sash around your trunk,
spent a month on stage practicing, but it wasn’t enough
‘cause in field, philosophy battles spontaneity.
the day you walked in school, you did a fealty.
just like a little kid looking for someone to tie a knot,
waiting for mother, she came after performance was done.
packed your books taped in a cardboard box
you mention them in your talks.
memories fall like drops of rain
on windows of moving trains.
memories rise like sun
just to dusk when time comes.
stop you like traffic lights,
crave you in the midnight,
inspire to sit and write.
it’s like a folder in my laptop that i haven’t opened in years
but when do, i laugh at my old self.
days pass by; calendars change, memories are all i inhere
from my past mistakes.
where we once walked, someday someone would follow
we’d reunite at old homes to return what we once borrowed.
i haven’t met future, though i believe it’s enchanted
by our dreams and hopes.
there’re ghosts on my shoulders in spotlight,
and they’d only leave when i take charge of my stage.
did i make these memories or did they make me?
are they satellites around me or do i stay stationary?