The light itself is irrelevant.
It’s what it highlights that matters,
As it stirs the flotsam of dust and debris.
Walls of flaking paint, cracks and curtains in tatters,
Even in the memories I am not free
Of the light sweeping over me.
Each scratch, chip, old relics of time past,
The light enhances, reminds, permeates
My mind as it tumbles faster,
Running from the harshness it recreates,
Preferring the kind shadows of nostalgia,
The softer glow masks the cracks.
Draw the curtains, trap the light behind,
Tape the edges to seal away it’s revealing power,
Leaving you in the dark, alone and blind.
Seek a candle or lamp to comfort and cower,
Artificial sun be kind to me,
Curb the edges of my mind,
I plea.
Apr 27
Apr 27, 2026 at 10:51 AM UTC
The light itself is irrelevant.
It’s what it highlights that matters,
As it stirs the flotsam of dust and debris.
Walls of flaking paint, cracks and curtains in tatters,
Even in the memories I am not free
Of the light sweeping over me.
Each scratch, chip, old relics of time past,
The light enhances, reminds, permeates
My mind as it tumbles faster,
Running from the harshness it recreates,
Preferring the kind shadows of nostalgia,
The softer glow masks the cracks.
Draw the curtains, trap the light behind,
Tape the edges to seal away it’s revealing power,
Leaving you in the dark, alone and blind.
Seek a candle or lamp to comfort and cower,
Artificial sun be kind to me,
Curb the edges of my mind,
I plea.