JESSE JUNE

My sentimentality chains me to a sinking ship.
Holding onto hot coal because it was handed to me by an old friend.
Barely able to burn bridges, even if they lead me to my doom.
Anchors holding me down, preventing me from setting sail.
Bubbling resentment, volcanic anger seething through my veins.
I hope it doesn’t cause me high blood pressure,
runs in the family.
Abandonment issues transform, evolve, mutate,
into attachment issues.
Decade friends decide to disappear,
I’d probably just shrug my shoulders.
Birthday cards from 15 birthdays far stuffed in dresser drawers,
is it sentiment or too much sentience?
Sensitive to everything,
so, I put a muzzle on my feelings like a pit bull.
Knee deep in nostalgia and confusion.
Educating myself that old cures can be poison in the present.
Question everything in life now and then,
to see if things should still be there.