The Cognitive Itch

Narratives of the past become the soundtrack of the here & now

Bada-dum bada-dum badam

Portraits of awkward memories hung now as reasons not to love

Bada-dum bada-dum badam

An adult branding herself with words uttered by pubescent tongues

Bada-dum bada-dum badam

Childhood trauma safety blankets I don’t want but can’t let go of.

Bada-dum bada-dum badam

Alarm bells of past failures deeming the good today, a front

Bada-dum bada-dum badam

If the enemy is within, is there any reason to run?

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Self-woven narratives become melodies we can’t help but hum.

Bada-dum bada-dum badam

I need to rewrite the story if I can't turn the music off.