My Time Machine…

Longing for a time that came and went to fast, longing for the happy past

I built a time machine out of longing and ache,
Of “what ifs” and laughter I wish I could take.
Its gears hum with moments that once felt like home,
Back when my heart hadn’t learned how to roam.

I’d set the dial gently—never too far,
Just before the cracks, before wishing on stars
Couldn’t fix what was fading right under my skin,
Before I knew how some endings begin.

I’d step into mornings that smelled like your shirt,
Afternoons careless, untouched by hurt.
When time moved slowly and joy didn’t rush,
And happiness bloomed without needing a hush.

I wouldn’t change anything—no warnings, no clues,
I’d just live it again the way I once knew.
I’d laugh a bit louder, stay longer inside
Those seconds I didn’t know how to hold tight.

But the machine only flickers, then quietly sighs,
It knows what I want, but it won’t rewrite lives.
So it leaves me here, with a heart full of then,
Learning how to survive without going again.

Still, some nights I swear, when the world feels kind,
The past visits softly, unbidden, unlined.
And for just a moment, I’m back where I’ve been—
Living the echoes of happy moments within.