Untitled by Garen Zakarian

I live off leftovers
scattered along a dusty highway
stretching twenty thousand miles behind me
I live off memories
which hunt me down
at every turn
I live off scrapings
of a luscious meal
served at the parties of experience
I live behind a one-way mirror
watching the world
I live on pages
of unwritten books
and songs unsung
I live off vivid smells
spring grass
cherry blossoms
aphrodisiac violets
I live off smiles
engraved on retinas
unsaid goodbyes
abandoned on the sidewalks
chasing the tinted windows
of a departing bus
I live off the future
That is left behind
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