Person From the Past

so can you ever be free from those whom you thought you did your best to leave in the past? certainly only senility may be compassionate enough to wipe the slate clean, but what about those who have gone, or who were shoved off by you yourself, in a moment of weakness, in a moment of hopelessness, in a moment of passionate youthful dismay, all knotted up like stressed-out muscles? for we both know, you & i, that there are no second chances in this thing & we will all be dead so fast that to cling onto something so far gone, seems so irrelevant now, but in the moments of deepest depression, in the moments of aging bewilderment, further stress & illness, all those who revealed themselves to be sympathetic to our cause, to be nice to us, in the very least, come pulsating vibrantly to the forefront of the mind & when we reach out with our fingertips, needing to speak only a few words, needing to make some sort of connection with someone with whom we thought we had done something right, in the midst of this horribly indifferent & utterly brief ridiculousness, we’d be lucky to hold that dream in the recesses for more than a couple minutes after waking up in the morning.