The past is so alluring,
a perfected recreation of what's gone:
nevermind the sleepless nights
burdened with anxiety and sorrow,
remember only the nights with friends
and strolls along red brick buildings.
Wouldn't it be wonderful to go back?
Back before self-awareness
when madness was considered love,
back to days of constant heartbreak
and the worst grief I've ever known,
but at least I didn't have to work.
Searching for answers in dream logic,
divining the future from pendulums,
days when I wanted to fade away
and skip ahead to the peaceful future.
Always looking away from the present,
I love every time but now.
-Zero
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