What’s in my past? I try not to care.
I pay attention at the moment,
But tomorrow it will be in the past,
So I will no longer be paying attention.
What’s in my past? If asked, I might tell you.
Depending. . .
if I trust you,
What mood I’m in,
The environment surrounding us,
And if I remember.
What’s in my past? It depends.
There’s actually a high percentage of a chance that
It is written down under a pillow, in a backpack,
Or under a bed. Hiding in between black pieces
Of sturdier-than-paper-but-just-as-able-to-be-incinerated-
Paper. And it’s all paper. Pen and paper.
It’s written down in loopy, barely legible,
Language of my Virginia Woolf.
What’s in my past?
Sometimes when I read it, I cry.