There's no antidote to memories
No theory to explain how what once
we drew our strength from, now
is poison to us. Everything we base
in its remembered sweetness tastes
more bitter than acid ashes, and
we weep for it. We weep
for what was good, with the bad
even then, growing alongside.
If it was a case for going back in time,
knowing what we know now, which even now
we know means nothing - could we tease
the good and bad apart? With warnings
and encouragements, in every right direction
that presents itself? Even then, it's doubtful
the operation could restore us,
to where we wanted once to be.
It surely wasn't here,
now - lingering in thought,
asking questions, learning lessons
that are never any good to me.
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