Death & Immortality of History

I am a person with no history,

none I can keep.

Even those few memories

that were gentle and sweet;

they hurt too much to reminisce.

All those sweet things are gone

lost to this phenomenon.

The truth is I remember everything.

The death of history was my decision.

But the truth is I can't forget

I'm subject to this endless repetition

of the very worst of moments; trauma and betrayal

They run on a loop again and again

Feel everything as I did back then.

It can happen anytime,

memories metastasised

I never know when

and when they come

the flashbacks blind

I'm there,

lost my place in time

It happens all over again, I watch

as my innocence dies.

I'm consumed in a past

I can't exorcize.

Truth is you can't kill your history,

trust me, I've tried.