Memories are ghosts.
They haunt me,
When I least want
Their company.
Sadistic and vicious,
They roll me
Into a nailball!
Anaconda-grip,
Ant-bite,
Scorpion-sting,
Mamba-bite,
All these they
Do to me.
My memory
Always brings me
My adolescence.
The days I peepholed
Man-woman thing.
And, the masturbation.
The middle-aged woman,
My initiator,
Now old, eyes me:
A knowing smile
That feeds my guilt.
In youth,
An eligible bachelor,
Employed as well,
Still, I never made a move.
The guilt of adolescence
Held me back!
Shy as a maiden,
Meek and sleek,
Maidens found me
A misfit!
Married, begot two kids.
Mature now,
Bold I am
To confess
Memories do hurt me.
To stave them off,
I just can't.
I am not complete!
