Before

Diaphragm contracts, vision swift to blur;
mind racing from its proper time and place.
What pulls the heart to this violent stir
always hides from mine its shadowy face.

Triggr’red, mem’ry makes this body a corpse,
an evolution now so far removed
from a life once lived; unforeseen change warps
our expectations thought already proved.

Yet this time-trav’lling, near resurrected
idea is an unholy perversion;
Life never lived as moments dissected:
Nostalgia but an innate recursion.

That place I was, hurting for what once seen;
though just a glimpse of where we’ve not yet been.