Poetry

Past Yesterday

Written by Jacob Ibrag

I wake up with scratches on my

soul. Invisible to you and unseen to the whole

world. I wake up with memories borrowed from another

place. A spirit that remembers way past yesterday. A collective

of weaknesses married to different strengths. I’m a historian

who doesn’t understand his own history. And so I go to

bed with scars I can’t explain. A guest in my own

soul. A resident living with strangers.


Photo by DeMorris Byrd

11 comments on “Past Yesterday

  1. Reblogged this on Art, Photography and Poetry.

    Like

  2. Read it several times now. This really hit me deep!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. So beautiful! A guest in my own soul. Lovely

    Liked by 1 person

  4. It’s only natural, we feel lost, because we have no sense, of who we are, supposed to be in this life, and you just have to, trust fate, and know, that, everything, will, come, in time…

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I love that! the way it’s written, too, adds a lot.

    Liked by 1 person

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