Nostalgia: It sounds like a disease And it has infected me. Worming its way through veins and valves. I caught it from robbing the graves of memories. Trying to gather the silver linings from long dead moments dusty laughs that crumbled in my fingers, moulding smiles that left spots on my hands that burned. out, out **** spot* I lay down in the fresh earth, cold, how cold it is.