Memory Lane: After Hours

this road, memory lane–

visiting hours are closed

i can't stay too long

this road isn't as safe in the night

a hot wind blows a burning song, lyrics i cannot fight

wrongs i have, and wrongs i cannot right

i wouldn't say, this place is a paradise

i would say– an art gallery, of every mask i've destroyed

decisions made from a flip of a coin and a pair of dice

first and last thoughts, and all on which i didn't think twice

choices, words of both the foolish, and the wise–

and voices, unpaired to a pair of eyes

faces i painted, to play a part,

and stains that never washed away

there are gaps in the art

voids fill the space of what i've forgotten

noises from the faceless, a blur so rotten

it's not all bad

but these walls have gotten taller

the list is longer, numbers i can't call back

it's paper, not people, that talk back

there's a page in my journal that's all black

on it is a history, of misery written in beautiful detail

all on which i hope not to fall back

memories bittersweet, re-tell the stories–

valleys i had to walk through

storms i had to talk to

clouds i chose to fall through

hills i've died on, without any flowers–

and mountains i never made it over

black moods, dark rooms, empty tombs– after hours

white lies and the bright light required for shadows to exist

but it's not all bad, right?

the sermons of self hatred have been silenced

i stood in the choir i was preaching to,

because it was my soul that needed reaching to

i left the world where everyone was a stranger

for a while it was acceptance and understanding that were things strange to me

it was the change in surroundings, that gave change to me

it used to be so hard to relax

rearranged thoughts, not to relapse

in all hope not to fall back

lost contacts, numbers i can't call back

to keep in contact with the new me

further down this road, i see–

lanes closed, bridges that used to be

that give me,

an ominous sense, of Déjà Vu

this road, i've gone so far, but there's far too much to continue

i can't stay too long, if i take one wrong turn

it'll be me, not the bridges, that burn

memory lane, it's not the same, after hours