I keep focusing on the past,

Trying to look the future,

But I keep focusing on the past,

 

I keep looking at my old interests,

My old things, hopes, dreams,

My desires, gone, but not forgotten,

Making me sad, like I’m drowning in some sort 

Of dry puddle that chokes the air, threatening every one who falls into it,

This ocean of nostalgia,

This lake of fading memories, faint happy times, and more recent sad feelings,

I’m caught in it, trying to swim,

Trying to kick hard, pull myself up to surface, 

Feel the air take me back into it’s cool yet welcoming arms,

Wrap me up, hold me, bring me back to the now and the yet to come,

Trying to look to the future,

But I keep focusing on the past,

 

I keep remembering things,

How I’d dance, my movements graceful, because I loved it,

How I’d break a board, get my new belt, smile, because I love it,

How I’d sing, then pretending I was the world-wide singer I once thought I would be,

Because I loved it,

But now it’s more of a bitter memory,

Beating myself up for not loving those things anymore,

For not having those dreams anymore,

A bitter memory,

That leaves a bad taste in my mouth,

Sliding down my throat, settling in my stomach,

Making me feel guilty for something I once felt happy over,

I’m sick of it, 

This horrid, twisted feeling that makes me feel

Like I don’t deserve to enjoy life if I don’t love what I used to,

I’m trying to climb my way out of my stomach,

Trying to scale my throat and let my future words come out of my mouth,

Trying to look to the future,

But I keep focusing on the past.