My Diary

I allow the past to rest between the pages of my diary 
the call of loneliness 
in my memory 
and as I reminisce inside these pages, dried rosette mauve petals help me remember 
nostalgia reels on pages woven with echoes of past gaiety’s vanishing into paling tints lacquering my heaving breath 
and yet,the deep scent of vintage pages ruffle the quietness of my eyes 
language of memories 
brings a quiver 
to my veins 
as I swallow yesteryear’s anguish and close that lingering chapter finally 
the pain has healed me upon a new page’s behest.