Temporal Hopscotch of the Runaway Mind

After what feels like a million years,
I'm back in the city I was born in,
and though I expected nostalgia's five-fingered-kiss
instead, I'm suffering from this: a runaway mind. Let me explain:
I could be riding my bike, turn my head,
and see a road on which I kissed a girl at 12,
and though my body would continue riding off, my mind
would be stuck, on that road, still living that time.

Or, I could be walking in an alley and suddenly remember,
how I once danced here to cheer up a friend, and though
my legs would carry me to my destination my mind
would be patiently reliving the scene on repeat,
unwilling to leave.

And it's happened often enough, I feel,
simply existing here, that I'm living twice,
thrice, in multitudes, because, everywhere I go,
everything I do,
pieces of my mind splinter off,
and go live scenes I've already lived before,
leaving the me of right now feeling hollow. Am I even
living anymore, or am I just a prison
from which to escape to happier days?

Poetry by Sameen
Read 71 times
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Written on 2022-08-06 at 17:40

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Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
Your poem has been chosen to be featured on the home page of PoetBay. Thank you for posting on our poetry website!

Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
A complex set of circumstances might ... m-i-g-h-t ... bring someone to have this 'groundhog day' type deliberation of a remembered event.
I have such a weird memory as a consequence of a motor accident when I was a young man, that I would find it hard to do what you are doing... if this poem is autobiographical?

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
This is an interesting situation. You've returned to the scenes of many of your most memorable moments. As a result, you keep reliving them. You probably need to generate new memorable moments, if you can.

one trick pony The PoetBay support member heart!
You have the gift of putting complex emotional or personal concepts into images that are graspable, it is a gift of seeing clearly and relating what you see.

This poem is a bit nightmarish in that what might be a series of fond nostalgic moments leave you feeling hollow. No way out, sort of feeling. I hope that passes.