I can only catch glimpses of my childhood
moths to the electric resonance
The few I trapped
on the latticework of memories
remained covered with layers
upon layers of
That I learned to ignore
in hopes of forgetting,
losing them to the flood of
electric waves inside my brain.
When nothing worked
and the dust only piled up
until I was nothing more
than the attic of an abandoned house.
I figured the sepia scope
exposure, would help in letting go.
I revisited these childhood monsters,
returning to the house with lights always flickering
to learn so I could
And I forgave myself.
Shocked by the crumbled walls I had built
tumbling down by my hands,
the ghosts of charred night butterflies
escaped the cobweb I had laced.
And we were free.