《Poems》A Letter to Myself

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are you missing what could have been?

what a stupid question;

of course you are,

you always are;

always stuck in the past,

can never move forward

or even see what's right in front of you.

you grieve the things you've lost,

but where have you been

when you still had them?

stuck in your own head,

replaying, replaying, replaying...

you long for things unreachable,

but never take a step to try,

so that even possible things

become a faraway dream,

a piece of memory to forget,

a forgotten memory to mourn.

you keep spinning in circles

until you grow dizzy,

but the space keeps closing in

and you are trapped,

you can't move or run or shout;

a heavy lump sits in your throat,

stealing away your voice;

there's not a worse feeling

than being forced to be silent.

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