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.