I've lost your voice.
The world has gone silent.
All I hear are endless
echos bouncing from the walls of my mind.
I only wish to hear it
One last time.

I'm scared,
Change makes me want to die.
Nostalgia, the enemy,
Needles to flesh
Won't let me forget.
I can't stop crying.
I don't know why.
Or maybe I do.
Acknowledgment
Means it's real.
We're growing apart.
But have you noticed?
I hope I don't have to lose you
Too.

I’ve realized that the loneliest place is not the bed,
It’s the echos inside my head.

nostalgia feels like a rotting tooth

and it won't come out; no matter how many times i
wiggle and twist
and pull at it

or when my father tells me he's
going to tie a string around it and
slam the door

or my mother threatens to send me to the dentist
its too big of a problem for an ordinary person

im attached to the rot

she is my friend; i watched her grow
and she grew with me too
plus, ive never liked leaving things behind

and i remember-
how? can i remember her if she is nothing
how? will i be able to understand the present and survive the future
without the context of the past

the rot will spread and I will endure it

even so, it hurts