i am remembering.
remembering what
went wrong,
where it went wrong,
and what it did to me.
memories are pouring
out of my eyes,
tightening my throat,
and being screamed into my pillow.
why does remembering
always end with
my mascara ruined
and the pain
even worse than before?
i try to teach myself
to remember
the happy memories
as happy memories, but,
no matter how i hard i try,
i always end up being sad
that they are gone.
and so i let the memories
pour out of me,
because it is all i have left
of you.
YOU ARE READING
my poems
PoetryA coming of age story of a young girl, discovering the true meaning of self love.
