The 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

- never to return

So they're lost to this phenomenon

The truth is I remember everything

The death of history was my decision

The truth is I can't get it out of my head

I'm subject to this endless repetition

Of the very worst of moments; trauma and betrayal

They run on a loop again and again

It can happen anytime, memories metastasised

I never know when

And when they come

The flashbacks blind

I'm there

I've 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.