The Fragments In Here

there are detectors,
within the barricades of my mind.
crying, wailing.
the 'do not press' button flashing manically.
"take a step back, girl.
you're already in too deep..."

in too deep.
in too deep.
fuck.

it speaks only when i listen,
a flamboyant hush.
and when i don't, i see flashing traffic lights.
red. red. red. red.
as if they are crying,
while reminiscing.
i do not want to pay any attention,
not to the light.

i want to go back.
to a pale street lamp
with a soft hum.
to a wrinkle in the spectrum of memory.
to a mistake?
"yes!"

no.
this warning signal.
maybe it is what they call
'your conscience'.
but, i have been subconsciously trained to avoid it
by myself.

i want to go back.
to a dance
with spoken word.
to a surprise symphony
with no bars for repeat.

i am not capable of ignorantly ignoring it.
it is lying under here

and

i am undeniably, 

uncontrollably longing for it.
it is here where i am blinded by the flashing lights.
red.
it does not frighten me enough.
not nearly enough to turn back.
what i am afraid of is why,
why it does not?