It was that time of year again.
The leaves were falling, birds chirped,
Sales for coats and scarfs were plastered on the outside of every store,
Smiling faces captured out of time.
I slowly made my way past it all,
Past the school where I first met you,
Past the park where we used to play,
Past the abandoned store.
So many memories, hung heavily in the fog,
cursing me with the trails of tears they left behind.
But how long?
Like I was a relaxed little child,
I lost track of the time and date;
Wandering aimlessly.
At every turn, a different picture played,
Only tormenting me.
I don’t remember how I got here.
All knew was that I was stuck.
In this locked box with a lost key;
In a maze of memories.
Every now and then I’m drowning,
In this sea of reminiscence,
That goes across my chest like a chisel.
It reaches to an extent when I whimper and whine, Yet there seems no hope or light.
How distinctly absurd scenarios cook up in my head,
Making me want to relive those.
If only that was possible, I wonder.
If only time travel was likely,
You would never see me again.
But what if?
What if ‘memory lane’ was a real place?
And not just something we happen to believe in?
What if the suffering is real?
And the pain and hurt?
What if all these places I’ve been trying to go,
And all these moments I’ve been trying to live
Actually exist, even outside my head?
What if you haven’t left me already?
And hiding just along the corner of the street?
Strangely, it makes sense to me,
And not to the world I live in.
I try to look deeper and it only hurts more,
Into pieces of sorrow I am tore.
Memories are an imminent doom,
That throw your soul right into its tomb.
Infinite boulevard 