Nostalgia Is A Bitch | Poetry

Nostalgia carries a physical presence.

I feel it infiltrate its way to my heart when I look at pictures from my travels.
I feel it fill my lungs with poison when I think about my much loved school days.
I feel it creep up my throat and tighten until I can longer breathe when I think about my childhood.
I feel it when my bones turn brittle and threaten to crumble from memories i'd rather forget.
I feel it in the form of hot tears that burn and scar my face when I think about people that are no longer part of my life but once played such a huge part.

Nostalgia is the purest form of torture we endure.