Why does the past feel warm and cosy,

open armed and inviting me back to a time

when all was good?

Why does the present feel like 

a boulder bearing down the heart,

wrapping me in its veil, so tight?

Why does the future feel like

a deep darkened silence,

waiting to feast upon my mangled corpse?

Time gives and time takes away.

It dangles the carrot and plucks it away.

But the flood of emotions stays the same 

no matter where the hands strike.