This is slightly personal, it's like a memoir in verse. A memory of when I was younger, I'm not sure how old. You know how sometimes you can't stop thinking about something you did in the past, that's what happened to me, so I wrote about it. If I underlined, it means I need a different word. If I bolded it, it means I'm considering exing it.
The Pain of Forgetting
velvet_on_a_moonlit
I don’t remember
why,
But I do remember
leaning against my door
making sure no one would walk in
and see my blotchy
tear streaked face.
There was a tentative, curious
knock
and,
after a few seconds,
I, not wanting to answer,
only wanting to be alone,
said hostily, defensively
in a hoarse
tear streaked voice
“What?”
I don’t remember
why
I was hoarse
From screaming in frustration, maybe,
from crying or phlegm in my throat.
and from behind the door,
close and soft,
inches away from my ear,
came my brother’s voice,
small and hurt
“Good job,
now you’ve made mom cry.”
Anger,
but without the enthusiasm,
for I was sapped of energy,
welled pitifully inside me.
I made her cry
Oh, and what does she think
I’m doing right now?
Tears of frustration and remorse
bubbled up
from under my eyes
but didn’t spill.
Many people wish
they could forget
the past.
Do they realize
that if the reason for harsh emotions
is forgotten,
the harsh emotions
will live on
and in replace of the painful memory
will be confusion?
All that is left of that moment
is the ire
morphing into regret
leaving me to wonder why
I forgot the reason,
but the emotions stayed with me.
Many people wish
they could forget
the past.
Do they realize
that if the reason for harsh emotions
is forgotten,
the harsh emotions
will live on
and in replace of the painful memory
will be confusion?
Like a candle
struggling in the nippy wind
extinguishes it
and all that is left
is the wisps of smoke
slowly curling and disintegrating in the dark.
I wish I could remember
the reasons for the feelings
that cause me such distress.
I wish to settle the dispute
of mind and memory.
