Some of us love the nostalgia.
We like the feeling of the past.
Some of us thrive off its highs.
Some of us don't know how to let go of moments that have passed
Cause we like how it felt, then.
And nothing seems to feel better now
And even when those moments are gone, we stay.
When the party is over,
We are the last ones dancing in an empty hall to a song that has since stopped playing
Our hearts are empty
And we can only fill them with the times we used to feel full
But there is no more refuel
And we just can't see any gas station around.
All of the excuses in the world,
We will give ourselves, to sit in that old chair and dream.
The smell, the feels, the sounds, the words.
It's like an overplayed Beethoven track
You'd know just when every note ends,
And when it is over, you are back to nothing.
Whatever residue nostalgia leaves behind,
I'm pretty sure it's bitter. Than coffee.
YOU ARE READING
Tell Me Something
Poetry~where I tell you many things~ It would be a lie if I say I don't feel many things. I feel alot. But I also do not feel anything most times. If I change my skin and become someone else, will you still understand me? Why don't I tell what I think? _ ...
