Something about the past

There's something about the past
that keeps drawing me
and I cannot escape from it
no matter how hard I try

or maybe I do not try

so I figure I might just have to stay
or pray it will let me go
but I do not want to go.

There's something about the past
about this whole creation
I feel it's killing me
or letting me breathe.

Or else how would I breathe.

There's something about things
I do not know
or touch
There are ways to say it right
or not say it at all.

And now I feel
it is gone.
And it's gone.