Memories, they escape me faster than the blink of an eye,
Your words in and out of my brain faster than your tongue moves, quicker than your lips.
I never meant to be so forgetful
Part of me believes it was the pills,
Or the booze,
Or perhaps something bad that my mind wants to forget
I may never know,
But not knowing doesn’t make me remember,
Never whispers in my ear the secrets you asked me to keep,
Not once did my memory remind me of times I have since forgotten,
Like my first eleven years.
Few memories exist of simpler times,
Mostly captured in photographs,
Or possibly created by my imagination,
The part of me that wants to put a story on the blank pages of my life's book.
I may never know
Why you left, why you came back, why you left again.
And maybe I don’t want to, but something inside of me shouts and cries because I just can’t remember what I did wrong,
And what I did right.
I am broken, shattered by knowing I may never recall my last words to you. Or your last to me.
Because you are gone, I will never hear your voice again,
A voice that I have since lost.
My memories, or lack thereof,
Have made relationships seem meaningless
Piecing together memories, I may never know the truth.
I find myself searching, like a lost explorer, trying to find my way home,
Reaching a single metre from the cliff, though never jumping,
And a single step away from my destination
Before turning back.
The little sight I have of the past is clouded,
Seems fabricated,
Like I never really knew what the truth is
I forget menial things,
Passcodes,
What I ate for dinner on Monday,
If I still have the dress I may have donated to charity,
But that is not all.
I try, but I can’t remember details about my best friend that I’ve known since birth,
I can’t remember my mum getting sick, or when exactly my dad moved in
Words said out of love, or hate, or jealousy, or praise: Gone.
Like a person with amnesia, details are gone,
I no longer know why I am who I am.
Can’t recall what shaped me,
Or who.
I can’t recall bad times,
Or good. I lose feelings so quickly that I wonder if I ever felt them in the first place,
Days, words, people, experiences are lost, they blend together, like the grains of sand on the beach, like the waves.
Sometimes I wonder if my life is an ocean.
An endless abyss, a chasm filled with days, filled pages of my story that have been tossed carelessly into the water
