caroline dinh

"OVERLAY"

nostalgia is the price I pay for indulging escapism.
everything you love now will come back to hurt you later;
we all know that so why do I submerge myself in
the songs of my today? after all, they will only become bitter requiems of
tomorrow; I wonder, does paris feel nostalgia when he takes
a tour through the scars that mankind marked upon
a map of his own self? perhaps he reminisces of
guillotines/conquest
pianists/painters/prodigies
when he pays a visit to his own museums.
or perhaps he grieves an old friend/foe when he kneels at napoleon's tomb
does he feel shame at siring such destruction?
or does he laugh in hindsight at his former flaws,
like youthful impulses, the ones I snicker/cringe at when I shuffle through
playlists compiled in what feels like centuries past?
my deck of memories--it contains every card I own
to break myself, all I have to do is reach out.
and I pull one away like it's a ticket to a time-traveling machine;
I've found that anachronistic anecdote of who I used to be.
I do not live forever so
before I can drown in memories
I'll be gone. no, I am not glad to end but I pity the immortals/those who cannot;
my mortality will bring me to shore. I am glad
I can take these steps/breaths/blinks without needing
to stumble into
past love,
wistfulness.
longing.