Bleeding Nostalgia in Stereo

A cycle of poems «The Night Won’t Let Me Forget You»

The tape hisses. The room goes still.
That song comes on - the one we knew.
And suddenly, against my will…
I’m back in 2013 with you.

We drove with windows wide and loud,
Your hand on mine, the radio high.
Singing off-key through thunderclouds,
Our future painted in July.

You wore that shirt with holes at the sleeve,
I laughed and said you looked like trash.
But God, you moved me like a thief,
Stealing time I couldn’t cash.

Now every chord pulls at my chest,
Like roots that won’t let go of dirt.
This melody’s a sacred test -
Can I remember us without hurt?

I skip it once. I skip it twice.
But by the third night, I give in.
Nostalgia isn’t just advice -
It’s blood I can’t stop letting win.

I’m bleeding nostalgia in stereo,
Every beat a wound from long ago.
Left channel: laughter. Right: goodbye.
One heart split between then and why.
I turn it up though it cuts too deep -
‘Cause missing you is all I keep.

I found your mixtape in a box,
Tucked beneath old concert tees.
“Summer Forever,” labeled in wax -
A lie dressed up as memories.

I played it slow, half-afraid to hear
The notes you chose for me and you.
That song where you whispered in my ear…
Now silence screams what once was true.

The world’s moved on. New songs, new names.
But none of them feel real or right.
They don’t know how we played those games,
Or kissed beneath streetlights so bright.

I should erase it. Burn the case.
But fire can’t kill what sound preserves.
Some loves survive in broken space -
In skips, in cracks, in what deserves.

I’m bleeding nostalgia in stereo,
Every beat a wound from long ago.
Left channel: laughter. Right: goodbye.
One heart split between then and why.
I turn it up though it cuts too deep -
‘Cause missing you is all I keep.

Maybe time doesn’t heal at all -
Maybe it just teaches us to bleed
In quieter rooms, behind the wall
Of smiles we wear when no one sees.

And maybe love was never meant
To last beyond the final show.
But God, the way it left its scent -
In songs that play wherever I go.

So let the chorus rise again,
Let speakers shake with ancient pain.
If this is all I have of you…
Then let the past bleed through and through.

So I’ll press play. I’ll close my eyes.
Let summer storm through frozen years.
No miracle. No compromise.
Just music masking silent tears.

Bleeding nostalgia in stereo…
Not living. Just remembering how to go.