Why are you there?

Seeing you in a pace you’d never be
Watching you watching me
Then just before I leave you say something

“Don’t leave. Please don’t run away again.”

With sincerity in your eyes and a somber tone
You looked like you did that day
Even though this was only a dream
That look… It split me in half

Burn Before Reading

For the first time in a long time it crossed my path again. I had forgotten that I had made a copy just incase I needed one as contingency, holding it in my hand I feel nothing…

No spike anticipation
No increased pulse
No flurry of emotion

The sheer thought of reading it just one more before I burn it has crossed my mind frequently over the passing days since its return to me. To read the lies once again, to relive that fateful event to its fullest, to feel suffering again.

Why is it we feel the most when we’re suffering?

The fear of the unknown, the fear of death essentially.

This sends the electrical impulses through the brain, it stimulates are senses, it heightens our awareness of all surroundings, it becomes intoxicating, it becomes pure poison.

The truth though… I will not read it again. I will wait until the dark of night and go to a place that only I know. The place where it all began and the pace that it will all end.

How many years has it been now since that ill fateful day?

I have lost track, but I know there is one who hasn’t. I know the pains they will face upon reading anything I have written because for the most part, this was started all because of her. I wish I could cast her memory in to the pits of hell and be rid of, but that isn’t possible. While the memory will fade it will always be there, lingering in the shadows and while I can’t truly hate that memory I can choose to ignore it and build new memories upon it.

Try as I might to keep those I care for from harms way the more distant I become, because I know none of them want to here what I really want to say. The real words that sit in my heart would be met with hostility, anger, sadness and pain, emotion that those closest do not deserve to experience. Instead I shall keep these words under lock and key, removed from this existence because there is no need for me to say them.

Reading back through the endless scribe I cringe at how pathetic I sounded…

I cringe at how I became a pawn in her game
I cringe at how I was so wrong
I cringe at it all.

The flames will purge and purify my soul… Finally I will be free.

Lost Moments

It is those moments that are lost in the memories of a setting sun that truly make us sad, for we will never remember what we felt, we will only know something was there but not what and that is what can be seen each day in the dying of the light.

Each dream that was forgotten, every unclaimed tear, all the memories you never wanted to forget met their inevitable fate.

I can feel them. I recognise smells I know nothing of, faces I have never seen, places I have never been, but everyone of them creates a stirring pool of emotion. A pool that never settles.

What are the memories I’ve lost?

Good, Bad, important or not?

I will never know, all I will have is that quaint feeling of Déjà vu…

Stars in the Sky

The light fades from a star in the sky, its time has ended.

It burned brighter than ever imaginable, suddenly a flash of light streamed across the sky and then it was gone.

This is the second time in my life I have been lucky enough to watch a stars last moments, it was not less majestic than the first time.

It only serves to put a sense, a reminder of my own mortality.

If a star that has been around for an untold amount time, unanswerable by our modern technologies can fade to nothing then so can we.

Will anyone besides me ever think about that star?
Did anyone else see its final glorious moments?

The memory will live on, even if it is only with me, but that is all anyone or anything can leave…

A memory.

So many memories.

I have so many memories,
Of people and places,
But some of the best are those of faces.

I have so many memories,
Both young and old,
Behind each one is a story to be told.

I have so many memories,
Are they real or just my fantasy?
It matters not, in the end, they’re only for me to see.

I have so many memories,
lets make many more,
Just you and me.

Memories of Nobody

I was sat quietly with my thoughts, simply watching the world pass by, seeing everything and trying to see nothing; it was at this moment my gaze was caught by someone with a vacant smile.

A tall young woman with long yet thin rose coloured hair, skin so dry that it had cracked and dull blue eyes that could only see sadness. This is what I could see, although not outwardly apparent.

To my surprise she approached me, after some general conversation and a passing comment ‘considering how I’ve spotted you sat in the same place you must never work’ we laughed and I asked what made her say hello, it was a simple and gratifying answer ‘you just look very friendly and like a good listener’ this brought a slight smile to my face, it also brought with it questions of what she wanted to talk about and why.

This young woman seems lost in the past, a place I could understand she was in, any advise of wisdom I could impart onto her suddenly vanished from consciousness, I only had emotion left.

“It seems to me you keep looking back over your shoulder in the hope that things will go back to how the were, I’m sorry to say they won’t. The longer you hold on the longer it will hurt, it is never nice to be treated in such a way but unfortunately that’s often how life plays out. In time the cut will heal and then it will scar over then one day eventually fade away until the remnant memories are of a faceless, nameless shadow. All you need do is just keep moving forwards with your life.”

Shortly after we parted company and she thanked me for listening.

I guess that all anyone can do is keep moving forwards, away from those who hurt us, and in the end you are left with memories of nobody.