memories, by Jezebel Subscribe to rss feed for Jezebel

The memories seethe unseen like
Maggots within my corpse
Locked away behind the porcelain
Doors and pale white bones

They surge up and imprint on my
Skin, leaving bruises invisible to
Any untrained eyes that have never
Felt the lash of violent hatred

Purple and blue blotches on my
Soul shaped like the fingers from
The angry hands a century ago.
They only hurt when I see them

They dig into my heart like
The rusted blades yanked from
Battlegrounds left untouched
For millennia, until now

The memories feed on my bones
And softly threaten to bring me
To my bruised knees, whispering
Condescending threats as they do

They are a sea within me,
Boiling hot and scathing 
Every inch of me until I
Am simply unrecognizable

They speak and shout until I
Am dragged to the icy depths,
The only warmth I own fading
Quickly from my abused limbs. 

When it becomes too much the tide
Sweeps in and carries me to land
But the respite is only brief
And always bittersweet.

They are toxin in my air, slowly
Suffocating my lungs and purging
Me of happiness until I crumble
Or find my only defense.

The only question I have ever
Known: will I sink?
Or will I find my strength
And finally learn to swim?


Posted: 2014-05-31 04:38:53 UTC

This poem has no votes yet. To vote, you must be logged in.
To leave comments, you must be logged in.