When I was a kid, the first thing I remember is nothing. Now that sounds strange; What do you mean? You don't remember anything? What I mean is that I can not remember where the beginning and the end started. I don't remember just opening my eyes and seeing the world, but I also don't remember a day when I didn't. A day I couldn't. I don't remember my first real laugh or cry, sometimes the thought of that makes me want to die. I find it hard to remember the important stuff, like names, or birthdays, important dates, holidays, and so on. The more I think about it the more my days become short and my nights become long. Most of the time I just think about who to blame. Who can I blame for my poor lack of remembering the past, or the future? Yet how can I know who is to blame if I can not remember? Ill twist and wreck my brain trying to gain some idea, but it's to no use. The only one I can blame is myself because someone should be held responsible for something even if they did or didn't do what they're being told their guilty for. At least that's what I've been taught. So I'll take the stand and I'll plead guilty for the poor lack of evidence, and youll confine me to a cell, back into my mind leaving me to watch the blurred memories of everything I've lived through as I wrestle with the hand like cuffs keeping me on my bed never to move again. I might not be able to remember, but I can dream. Ive dreamt that I can feel a boot on my chest, pushing me down further into the bed until I can no longer move as I see everyone else I thought I knew to turn into blurred faces as they move on with their busy meaningful lives. When I awaken I feel like I'm covered in hives, the itch is never-ending. I sit in my cell knowing my demise is pending. I stare at a wall with a giant mirror on it, probably to make me look at myself so I can see my guilty meaningless self. A blurred face walks into the cell, she seems nice. She pulls up a chair in front of me holding a paper and pen. I can slightly make out a reassuring smile. "It's okay. You're safe. Can you tell me what happend that day, please" she says. I shake my head, all I can do is look at her with frustrated tears running down my face. "I don't even know know where to start." She gently takes my hand. "Start at the beginning."
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Bird-Like Heart
PoetryThis is about my kind of poetry. Feelings emotions, trauma, love, happiness, loss. The world is filled with all of these thing and this is how express it.
