deepundergroundpoetry.com

Memoir

Earlier this morning,
I was walking down the front stairs.
When a blast of warm air hit me,
that smelled of dust in an old hallway.
Reminded me of my childhood home,
the front hallway and the second floor.
And then there was a chill,
early morning summer chill that reminded me.
Of Saturday mornings
and grocery shopping with my grandfather.
When he was alive
and I use to live with him.
And I stopped.
Standing there.
Untangling my earbuds.
Plugging in the jack.
Pressing play.
And I thought:
How nice it was to remember those things?
All of that.
And for the first time, in a long time.
I felt inspired to write.
Something down that wasn't depression, misery and sadness.
Tear stained razors blades of regret.
Something happy...
Something bubbling...
Something giddy...
Something that made me smile.
For the first time, in a long time.

nostalgia came knocking