Emily Dill

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You are here: Home / Poetry / Memory.

Memory.

September 18, 2015 by Emily Dill Leave a Comment

memoryimage


I’ve crawled inside a memory
I’m refusing to come home
You won’t be getting that from me
So you best leave me alone

I’m wading through the fuzziness
To find the picture, crystal clear
It’s almost like I’m there again
And there’s always better than here

They say you never remember the bad
I say there was no bad to omit
And I now hear a voice that’s almost yours
Not exactly, but close enough to it

Your laugh is exactly the way it was then
And now your face comes into view
Although it’s been years since I’ve been this close
It’s undeniably, heartbreakingly you

The you of memory raises an eyebrow
Perhaps wondering why I’m on this side of my mind
I shrug, roll my eyes, wipe a tear
And you smile at me, even now, kind

“You shouldn’t be here,” you murmur
Touching my cheek, and I sigh
“There’s nothing left for me over there,”
I whisper, hating that you see me cry

I catch the scent of your soap on a breeze
As you briefly flicker in my vision
You shake your head, sad that I came
As if it were my decision

“It’s your fault,” I say, a little defensive
You always did make me feel like this
You grin at the glimpse of the old me
And your smile warms me like a kiss

“Honey,” you begin, but I stop you
“I know,” I say, hanging my head
And you finally see that I hate this
The way that you left love for dead

“I’m sorry” is all you say
It was all you said on the other side too
And I’d almost rather get outrage
Than another sincere apology from you

“Okay,” I say, biting my lip,
You always touched my mouth when I did that
And as you flicker in and out again
I smile, although I feel it fall flat

“Don’t come see me again,” you say
Your words much harsher than your face
Looking at your sad eyes and clenched fists
I see it hurts you to have me in this place

I make a decision in that moment
In this weird little second in time
That though I couldn’t stay away for me
If it helps you, then I’ll be fine

I won’t come back to see you
I’ll put on a brave face out there
I’ll laugh and eat and breathe and live
And pretend that I don’t still care

And at 3am when it hurts the most
I’ll stay strong, but not for me
I won’t visit again and cause you pain
This is my last gift to a memory

Filed Under: Poetry Tagged With: poetry, writing

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