i tell myself not to worry about the future to take what comes to me in life.
but how can i do so when the past comes haunting me from the grave?
it kisses my cheek and caresses my soul in it’s song of worry.
it fills me with dread telling me that
everyone in my life is bound to leave me at one point or another because
it’s happened many times before, and it’s going to happen again.
the thoughts will not leave me be. so i sit, and worry
about not only the future, but the past and present as well.