It can haunt you

They say “Watch out, don’t let your past come back to haunt you.”

But what if the fact that it is past,

Is a thing that tantalizes,

And taunts your review?

Imagine a past that lingered like that,

Way later and far after the fact.

The creak of a voice and a shimmering of light off glass.

So much to remember that never came to pass.

Stacks of Stuff

Stacks of stuff inundate our lives,

Bags of things, pictures, posts,

Sharp as knives,

Reasons to hold on,

Thoughts to let go,

Flooded with detritus,

From the get go.

Sucked into the past by the way things look,

Anyone can read us like an open faced book.

Piles of acts both missed and mundane,

Stress the weight,

We carry in over loaded brains.

Stacks of stuff,

Enough to start a new civilization,

All over again.