A retrospective blimp,
dominating the sky of my body.
The present is paused,
while the opening of a door,
takes me on a unique kind of tour.
I joyously jog, or I tearfully trudge,
down a lane in which many are familiar with.
Held dear, for various reasons,
for many, this lane committed treason.
Different experiences, happen in separate seasons,
a quick escape from any situation,
the number one cause of procrastination.
The reason I lay awake at night,
staring into black, but visualising in colours.
You’ll always be my dear friend,
my buzz kill.
The love of my life.