Poem: What is Freedom? That without a past.


In my small slice of time, I’ve learned that each day, there are people who’ll come and softly fade away.
There are those who are there then out in a fright, a firecracker banging once in starlight.
And there are people who are there for a certain test of time before they say ‘goodbye.’
And there are others yet still, who exist to pull you through the falls into sparkling light.
But yet remains a person I detest, those who existed for awhile made a live wrenching impression then disappeared.
Those who were important but fade to shuddered sight — those who cut your soul and make you ask — what was the point of you, to drown me in my past.
And years tremble by like water in a fountain, babbling away every drop they ever made.
But water is circular and water is the chill of bones when it coldly lands on your skin once more.
And you’ll never know how a memory can fade and resurface and splash you in the eye mixing water with your tears.
Perhaps it’s me but I don’t know, perhaps you’re a memory of someone who was special who will never let me go.
I seek closure, and I seek compassion that God would ease my demons as I walk through life.
But time will grow and whisper through the years, and your eyes, your smile, that face will never let me escape my mind.
And I shudder to think what cutting all connection would do — but I think it would free me — a girl can hope for anything right?
Whatever you meant, you don’t mean that now, we both know it but I’m sliding down in sickeningly deep mud, endless piles of little loves, until I’ve blown up your importance far to much.
Forget you I pray, until you’re only a prayer on some occasion.
So I never think that your the one that got
away.
So I never see I’m a failure, and I did a lot of boys disservice.
Maybe I’ll forget to recognize the way you treated me in the past — that there was a reason we never stood hand in hand.
I’m just reminding myself to give up again because what I have I love.
And attraction like that is just lust.
You are no different then an actor who I liked briefly.
You are just too much for me to handle.
No one I’ll ever get close to.
You are gone now — but oh how your memory enslaves me.
Oh how I hate those in memory who wait and strangle all hope of forgetting from you.
Oh how I wish there was a solution, that I could go out in this world and be free of all the chains that bind me.
What is freedom? That without a past.

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