Phantoms

My dehydrated mind creates a disillusioned mirage

of memories.

Beautiful memories of a beautiful time

twisting them into melancholy phantoms.

Letting them haze their way in

until I feel 

exhilarated then debilitated and too damaged to fight back.

Lazing on a humming piano

in dreamy warm light

warps into something distant and painful and cold

as I trudge away, exhausted. Deaf.

Laughter and moments too dear to be human

become prematurely reminiscent

leave me hollow

aching

eroded remains of nostalgic tides.

My accelerating momentum of letting things go

is too frequently interrupted by the unwelcome brake 

of moments past

that my relentless mind treasures too much 

that my heart is powerless to refuse.

These phantoms envelop me completely

eventually convincing me to join them

in a haunt for home.

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