Photography by Devon Butler
Radio on to fill the silence
and give company on this lonely night.
Windows down, cool august air
and streetlamps blur my sight.
Familiar beat and lyrics
abruptly fill my ears;
this song, the breeze, familiar streets
bring me back so many years.
Nostalgia is a funny thing,
it tampers with the heart.
Memories like falling rain
melt strands of sense apart.
With no connection to the brain
my hands, they turn the wheel;
the streets, the song and the brisk night air
gain control of what I feel.
On your street my breaths grow short
my beating heart grows loud
suddenly I feel a change;
I am struck by an alarming sound.
The song falters, then it breaks
it is torn apart by static
my sense prevails, my tires turn,
as I am forced to change my tactic.
Turned around, I’m headed home
filled with shame from chasing ghosts.
The static on the radio
made me luckier than most
A life is filled with memories,
some of which are caustic.
Past love can pull you down to hell,
you must acknowledge how you lost it.
Like the love song that filled car speakers late,
the past has an ultimate appeal.
But past feelings, they are static;
they block out the sound that is real.