i can't see past the past.


those days are far too thick,


weighing on my mind


like the tons of ashes


and broken cigarettes


that i pushed around


city streets at 4 am.





nostalgic smoke like


curling smoke from revolvers


weaving, wafting,


choking me up as i


just remember what


i walked away from.





obsidian memories, cutting


what needs to be cut,


making holes, making room


for yesterday in tomorrow,


so i never forget.





street-sweeping the bridges i burned


at 4 am on those city streets.

07/10/2006

Posted on 07/10/2006
Copyright © 2025 Aaron Michael