subjective deviation

forgive me

eyes turn sloppy

at every nostalgic turn

in this choppy road

of ebbs and flows

sticky, it is

this realization

it effortlessly seeps

from polaroid pictures,

memories my phone created,

and my sister’s laugh

do i fear it?

is it more so an experience

essential for the mind

or a contaminating force

driving me back to the past?

to willingly give myself

to the nourishment of a heart

to willingly submit myself

to what has already happened

tender binds

and blurry lines

of where subjectivity

falls into place

learning that balance

is not something i can

from the future

nor present

to fully understand the deviation

i must submit to the past

running from that in which i must simultaneously return to