I Hate The Past

 

I hate the past.

It's the only siren whose song gets sweeter as the tune slowly fades.

It's a saccharin sweetness that causes pointless mental tumors to sprout.

Diverting and distorting memory.

 

But flashing metal frightens me.

Oversensitive coward that I am, I'd rather bear the selfish pain that sings a familiar tune.

Most nights, I can ignore my disgust.

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