this hole i dug
'tis not large enough
to bury the past.

the deeper i dig
the shallower the hole
as memories grow, with time.

recidivist in me
looks for what-may-have-beens
locked in subconscious dilemmas
of struggles between the soul and mind.

stop, dont look back.
you've got to keep walking this tightrope
and not find out
if it has snapped someway behind,
taking all i have
with you as you fall away.