Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Ghosts of Memories

These streets are haunted 
by ghosts 
of happy memories and 
shared smiles, 
turned bitter and black 
by the waves of hatred, 
and heartbreak. 

Insignificant places
suddenly have meaning.

She can't hide from them, 
the ghosts that grasp her heart 
and squeezes tightly 
until all she can feel 
is an emptiness, 
a dry numbness. 

She welcomes it.
She tells herself it's better than the pain.

She can't feel it 
when her heart is gone, 
stolen away by the waifs; 
she feels full, 
but she is only full of dark anger 
and bitterness.
Indeed she is empty, 
a mere shell of herself. 

All she wants to do is sink into the darkness 
and forget him.

I'm still like this sometimes, even though I keep on thinking I'm finally over him. Random things and places trigger memories, which just make me even sadder. Sometimes when you're heartbroken, you just need to be given time to sulk and be angry before you can heal. 

No comments:

Post a Comment