She knocked on my door
She knocked the way she always did on nights like this
I saw her through the peephole
And this time I let her in
Nostalgia was what she called herself
But sometimes she was grief
Sometimes she was loss
I let her in and I let her sit
I let her sit at the center of my mind
I let her rant
I let her tell me of all the memories
All the memories that I thought I had long buried
In the end we cuddled together
A warm embrace
She told me of the past and I told her of the future and the present
We cried and laughed
I felt light
And I thought
Perhaps it's okay to visit the past every now and then
Mar 2
Mar 2, 2026 at 11:08 PM UTC
She knocked on my door
She knocked the way she always did on nights like this
I saw her through the peephole
And this time I let her in
Nostalgia was what she called herself
But sometimes she was grief
Sometimes she was loss
I let her in and I let her sit
I let her sit at the center of my mind
I let her rant
I let her tell me of all the memories
All the memories that I thought I had long buried
In the end we cuddled together
A warm embrace
She told me of the past and I told her of the future and the present
We cried and laughed
I felt light
And I thought
Perhaps it's okay to visit the past every now and then
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