A reality

We’re living in a city where the sirens are just a little bit louder
Hearts feel just a bit heavier
And the world spins seemingly just a bit faster
Direction unknown
Future uncertain
Eyes pry
And neighbor
No longer smiling.

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A belonging

He doesn’t have a smell
Like all the others
And so I can only remember him
Through the places we’ve seen
A wiff paralyzed
Thus fewer occasions to accidentally be reminded
I don’t know if it was planned
But it hurts
Living
With an amputated scent.

A perspective

I’ll always smile at you
I don’t know if that’s comforting
But I thought you should know

I am hurt
And it is self-inflicted
Although it took me a while to realize

I apologize
My harshness was rash
Yet I couldn’t bottle it up

I hope you can see past
The words spat, the anger cascade
The upside down world I left you in
For I’ll always smile at you
I promise
I will always smile at you.

To grow young

“And as time passes, you forget.”

The silence of words just spoken filled the empty spaces of the room we sat in. I had to let it sink in. I didn’t want to forget yet I didn’t want to remember either. The painstaking duality played evil tricks on my mind constantly, although I have to admit, the forgetting had the upper hand as I grew older. Perhaps it was purely physical, a bodily phenomenon, Alzheimer’s light or whatever they called it. To compensate, my mind actively sought out memories and pushed me in certain directions. But I did forget and I had forgotten, especially the big things. The little things were harder. All of sudden, in the middle of a phone conversation on a busy street, the passing of a taxi would cause the greatest flashback. I would abruptly drop my phone and stand completely still, outsiders probably wondering what the hell I was doing, not to mention the person on the other line. It was those moments, that flock of memories, which never seemed to be forgotten.

I believe it’s called the psychophysiology of trauma. The body remembers. It’s quite fascinating. And so, even though my memory might be failing me as time passes, my body holds the memories, which in a sense, however tragic, is comforting.

“Yes, you forget,” I replied, smiling, knowing that to me, you’ll always be here, somehow, somewhere, no matter how old I grow.