You have gotten much thinner
You’re lookin’ like a shadow
It’s from dwelling on the might-have-beens
Living in a time-warp
To whom am I speaking? Some ghost from the past?
While you think about old glories
You’re fading real fast
— “Memory Lane,” Daniel Amos (Doppelgänger, 1983)
I’ve fallen down that rabbit hole called Memory Lane tonight. To be more honest, though, I didn’t really fall in here, as though I had no control over things. No, I jumped in with both feet — and now I can’t seem to find my way out.
It started with a woman, but that’s not really unusual, because these trips frequently start with a woman. They start with a faint memory that turns into a burning need to relive something warm and delightful.
And from there, I slide into the warmth and security of love.
Of being loved. Of losing love.
And then to the quagmire of what might have been — the bittersweet longing that’s equal parts hope and love and despair and emptiness.
Goodbye, William (1999-2015)
I’m looking at myself in mirror and asking difficult questions
Each experience of beauty and love stands alone, different from the rest
We’re neither friends nor enemies, just strangers who share the past
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My bad teen poetry suggests I’ve always hungered for missing love
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