Nostalgia

Nobody wants to be forgotten
Not by their friends, families, or colleages
and most of all, by themselves

We are afraid of losing our way
Going onwards and upwards but forgetting
that path which got us there

These minute changes
things that drew friends apart

We don’t want to forget
We don’t want to be forgotten

We do little things
reading books
seeing people
thinking

Each little thought chisels away at our souls
Refining what we are

Every little piece of ideology
struck
by the light tap of a dull hammer
crumbles off into oblivion

It is our fear
of losing these small parts of us

For as they fall
they collect

The rubble
a pile
of rocks
of us

What we are
What we were
What we are to become

We are sculptures
Defined equally
by what is there
and what is taken away

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About antimatter15

I am literally an upside down penguin. No, I'm not a gas mask, which I have been told this profile pic looks like in low resolutions (or squinting). But I have one. Or at least I'd like to pretend I do so you don't chloroform me. In truth, I only have eye protection, because apparently hackers can make your PC explode. Literally. Cool right? Well, that's why I have these safety googles within an arm's length - Well, for that or if I need to peel an orange.
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