A Fever Dream Poem by Sharon Namwalizi

High school,
A place they said
was where memories are made.

I try to look back,
but a little voice tells me not to.
In fact,
before it even speaks,
there is its fear.

A fear I do not know,
only that I know it.
A fear of what I might see.

I try to reassure it.
I only want to find the good things.

Yet even then,
its hand still holds the knob,
the door still closed.

I wonder if I really must look,
or if I should simply let it be.

An old classmate
reminisced about the past,
yet my mind was blank.
It ached.

I wondered,
Will this day too be gone?
Will I erase today?
Should I keep today?
Is this protecting me?

I remember the nights…
vaguely.
Yes,
the nights when I felt
so stuck…
Stuck, stuck in the past.

I fought so hard
to delete the pain,
and I was left all plain.

Even the old sun
never rose again.
A blank canvas.

Is this
what I fought so hard for?
Now I cannot look back.
I cannot open the door
not now.

Is the old sun
worth the rain?

Is this lock
keeping things out,
or is it
keeping me in?

I fear the thing of old.
One that came
even before
the old sun.

I think
the first sun
was the one
that kept me awake
through some nights.
Perhaps that was what
I truly fought to replace.

And maybe,
never understanding it
soon enough
led me here.

Never wanting
to walk those same waters,
I ran from every fire
that felt
even the slightest bit
like it.

Maybe
I locked myself in.
Or maybe
I finally
locked it out.

~sharonnamzi
22/07/2026 • 21: 33