Blank stretched brain.
Open and hungry.
Old times and old loves.
Why are these floating up?
Through all the crap.
Under the booze.
Behind the urges.
Away from the doubt.
So much time spend forgetting.
Relenting.
Finally.
But they smile.
And they mock, almost.
Instead, it tempts the heart.
Somehow everything is ok.
It is almost silly.
Chances and second chances.
The brain needs to rest.
Dreams need to play.
And I got to get away from insanity.
