The shadows are dancers and my chest is the stage,
A ceiling of blood and capillaries
Murky constellations made the chambers of my heart
Fragile roses on pointed feet
Nostalgia blooms and fades with the seasons
But memory is here to stay
Na opera of remembrance, a voice
Lodged deep inside a throat, a
Heavy tongue slick with the unspoken,
A longing,
You cannot reverse
Steal the show, but it must go on.
The haunting, the echoes, a
Merciless call, the song of regrets
And a tune of reverie,
I thought i’d shut them away before but oh,
How the longing returns
Nothing is missed except for the missing,
Nothing taken for granted long as it’s alive
A ballet of roses, an opera of longing,
A show within my aching aorta,
Let them sing, let the voices rise,
Rip the song out of my throat and bask in your misery,
Melancholy orchestras,
The choir of what’s gone,
Let it rise from the ashes and brighten the way
With these glowing notions of memory
I shan’t fear the ghosts, for i fear none
Except for a certain future.
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