nostalgia
can be a tricky thing to manage
it’s not very different
from getting paper cuts
while turning the pages
of an old photo album
the memories are sweet
but there’s always a bit of pain mixed in

maybe that’s why I like my coffee so sweet
it’s just that reminiscing over a cup or two
often leaves a bitter taste in my mouth
and the sweet darkness
flushes it out

stale coffee
old photos
a bit of pain behind a picture
like a short message

“missing you always”

I often wonder what happened to you,
what happened to us?
did we fuss over the wrong details?
or did the rain not deliver my tears?

on early mornings
half asleep
I can smell your freshly shampooed hair
it seems to linger
on my pillow
like a coffee stained photo of you
sweetly bitter
and painfully there

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