I Don’t Look Back

photo by Michella Sfeir

I am not the kind of person who looks back,

But sometimes the heart can beat too loud,

It awakens buried memories,

Turns them into lucid dreams,

And haunts the mind with blurry images

Of wrinkled eyes caused by a smile,

Of red freckles and helmets crash,

Of coffee cups and tattoos,

Of sunny days and highways,

Of maps and chatting apps,

Of poetry and white bedsheets,

Of night waves crashing on ukulele sounds,

Of a hammock and muddy barefoot balancing around.

The stormy ocean gets to calm down, and tornados turn into a soft breeze. The heavy heartbeat goes back to its normal rhythm, and I go back to my busy schedule and daily routine.

No, I don’t look back, but oh man, the heart can be thunderous sometimes.