Explosions of a Life

The TV is on, sound is down. I lay on the bed staring at the roof. Smoke cigarettes irritating my sore throat. Memories arise. Tears and laughs. I’m trapped in the past: a blessing or a curse. And I wonder. Can I erase and rewind. Or must I play forward. Life’s nothing but a song played on a secondhand tape recorder. Sad Vs happy, highs Vs lows, screams Vs silence… Starring you, till you loose your voice or the tape recorder’s dead.