Thatskinny Past Poem by RIC BASTASA

the past is skinny
it does not speak much
it goes to church
everyday

it is shy, but it thinks
much better, deeper and
probing like
a scalpel to the
gum and decaying teeth

it is what you only know
and you are surprised
how skin deep things were
until you wake up
and embrace the wonders of
change

the past is buried
it is skinny and dead
you want it
it can never be yours again

you meet a face
it is plump, and alienating
it does not recognize you
it is still hurt
and kept its composure
in indifference