My Darling Nostalgia

I hate the sound of breaking, like nails dragged across a slate, 

The irritating sickness installed in my already crippled brain,

they told me never to intertwine matters of the heart with matters of the mind, 

but i'll sit here and tell you one thing my son, the decisions i made were not mine. 

Welcome to the ugly, i swear to you i tell the truth, 

my en devours never triumphant, but just between me and you, 

i never really strive for much and this i shall regret, 

the only thing i'm good at is the pity story i spill from a pen. 

My father is a basket case, but not in the sense that the man is cracked, 

cracked in a sense that he's f****n' strict yet flips around to be the cool cat, 

but god forbid you go against his word, or try to tell him how ya feel, 

he'll torch each and every syllable as if it were frost to hot steel. 

I said i hate the sound of breaking, well imagine this, it's fact, 

your life is going splendid after years of getting no respect,

then they sit you on a plane and fly you far away, 

just to have her leave your father, break it off, oh ! what a day.

That crumbling in my head, and the tearing in my heart, 

an entire orchestra coursing through me, as it continued to fall apart,
I lost my friends and who i was, in a strange and awful place, 

And i could have sworn i'd lost my mind as well if i couldn't constantly feel it race, 

I hate the sound of breaking, i hate the melody of losing hope, 

the bass line of denial while the conductor's at my throat, 

A panic and an encore, the ringing in my ears, 

it hurts even to swallow because all i taste is fear, 

"Pull yourself together," i heard a small voice say,
It's the devil with a guitar, to drive the noise away, 

he plucks the strings so softly, and the clashing disappears, 

i was told to turn from evil, but he has already enticed my ears, 

"dry your eyes, my darling, i'm here to stop the pain,
just tell me what you want and i promise i'll make it that way."
I look up to the ceiling, wondering if i should run for the door, 

I've already gained the strength to sit up from a ball curled up on the floor, 

should i give him the time of day? i thought,  

Should i listen to him speak,
My mind is screaming answers, and i'm appalled how i'm no longer weak. 

There's no angel on my shoulder, no, not this time, 

perhaps this is a gesture that the good in me has died, 

perhaps all those who have wronged me, 

the ones dearly that i loved, 

have murdered all the light inside so the angel will never show up, 

this is all i have to guide me, so i decide to listen close, 
He says "Go ahead, my love, what is it that you want?"
I think about if carefully, but nothing comes to mind, 

i look back to the ceiling, and put my pain aside, 

And in that single moment, i decide to intertwine, 

the logic in my head and the want coming from inside, 

that tiny little organ, the one that always breaks, 

the weak, annoying piece of flesh that always needs to be saved, 

i ask that pathetic thing what it wants, putting silence to my head, 

it shows me the way it used to be, innocent and grand, 

a smile on my face, my mother is still sane, 

my father only drinking maybe 2 or 3 a day, 

the sun is shining brightly, there's pictures in the halls, 

the school bus picks me up and drops me of to a home, 

a home full of people, a home full of life, 

A couple decent friends and a meal every night, 

now i start to get angry, of the kids that have it all, and complain, 

and all they say is "f**k them both ! i'm going to move out someday!" 
well you sorry fuckers, once your family's gone, good luck, 

I look up and the devils gone, i guess he'd had enough, 

I hate the sound of breaking, i just want it to stop before i crack, 

i guess i had to except whats gone, and that it's never coming back,

the orchestra never played again, but sometimes it comes knockin', 

only whenever i sit down and think of the incredible and shocking, 

the way things used to be, oh,  happiness and glee, 

i'm sure there's something wrong, since i can't stop and find another lead,

once it's locked me in, i fall and can't get up, 

as the movie plays inside my head and the hush knocking interrupts, 

like i'm on the brink of crazy, but not quite all the way there, 

only went there once and got quite the f****n' scare, 

the good in me is gone and i don;t really seem to care, 

All i have is the regret for not making a deal with the devil when he was there, 

the past is in my head, it holds me down for a while, then lets me go about my day, 

i'm no longer in denial, 

i hate the sound of breaking, i intertwined my heart and mind, 

and found that there is nothing left, nothing left to find, 

i found a name for it all, it leaves me in a crutch,

I call her my darling Nostalgia, 

& I can't seem to get enough.

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

have murdered all the light
inside of me.
Nice write.