• About

Wounded Memories

~ Anonymous place to let spill my wounded memories

Wounded Memories

Monthly Archives: August 2014

It is

31 Sunday Aug 2014

Posted by woundedmemories in Poetry

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Poetry

It’s the ache that fills every crevice of me

It’s the constant writhing of the dragons in my tummy

It’s the checking of this email every 20 minutes for the last few weeks

It’s the waking up I’m the morning and my first thought being about you

It’s the not being able to go to sleep because I’m wondering if you’re thinking about me

It’s the sorrow of knowing you are thinking about the end 

It’s the anger at the universe for its fucked up sense of humor

But it isn’t just those things

It’s the heart slipping a beat when I get a new message from you

It’s the smile on my face when I *know* you’ve been thinking about me

It’s the amazing fact that I not only had a dream, but a fucking amazing one about you

It’s the growl of your name tumbling from my lips

It’s the excitement I get when you talk about the was I make you feel

It’s the swelling of my heart when I know you feel down and I wish nothing more than to be there for you to hold you

It’s the warm feeling I get every time I think about you which is all the time

It’s the curiosity of how exactly I came love you, but acceptance of it

A Dream Worth Having

26 Tuesday Aug 2014

Posted by woundedmemories in Dreams

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Dreams, hopeful, Love, romantic

I don’t dream often, normally my nights are sleepless or slithered with nightmares. But once in a rare while I dream, and once in an even rarer while I have a dream worth dreaming. This is one such dream.

Slowly my eyes opened, for a brief moment I wasn’t sure where I was. The world comes to focus and I realize I am in my room, in my bed. Still feeling a bit lost I look to my left and there you are, lying next to me, looking at me. For a moment I was confused, but quickly it felt… right.

I don’t know how long you had been watching me, but when you saw my eyes open a smile that was sad and delicate spread across your face. But your eyes… I was feeling myself getting pulled in. They were so sad, but God so fucking beautiful. I reached over and gently brushed a stray hair from your face, as much as an excuse to touch you as to push away the hair. You didn’t say a word, just closed the already short gap, leaning in to kiss me. 

Your lips, somehow both so familiar – as if they were the only lips I had ever known, and so electric – as if I had never felt or tasted anything so perfect. Soft and deep, it felt like the kiss lasted a lifetime, our tongues slipping carefully, deliberately in and around each other, as if each movement was vital, each moment was essential.

When you pulled away your smile went from sad to real, a subtle change that most would have missed, but I felt right down to my core. Both of us naked under the covers you climbed on top me, looking down at me, our eyes locked, your hair draped down cascading over me, almost as if it were blocking out the rest of the world.

We stared into each others eyes for a while, finally, I broke the silence and whispered your name. You leaned down, the tip of your nose playfully, lovingly caressing the tip of mine. I couldn’t help but feel your nipples hard against my chest, swaying slightly as you rocked gently left and right, almost a slight erotic dance, your eyes never leaving mine.

Rocking, you are pressed against me and I am so hard I can’t wait anymore, so I slide my hands down slowly, starting at your shoulders, breasts, down to your hips where I grip firmly, lifting you up and settling down onto me. Slowly, easing you down as if I knew I needed to savor each moment, each fraction of an inch as you lowered until finally, I was completely, deeply inside of you. Biting your lower lip I could see the urgency building in your eyes and knew you could see the hunger in mine.

Dreams aren’t always exactly linear, so I don’t know how to precisely express what I experienced. It was as if while we were making love we crashed into each other, our tides pulling us deeper and deeper, we took our time – slow and deep, we were urgent – harder, faster passionate, we climaxed – wave after wave, somehow this was all at once and all stretched out for some time.

At some point we were finished, you collapsed on top of me, and that weight of you one me was one of the most perfect feelings I can remember having. And all we could whisper to each other, in husky spent voices, was “I love you.”

I guess this is around when I woke up. Both sad for having woken up and ending the dream, and also filled with such a feeling of being content – something I am not familiar with, but fuck I liked it.

If I have to suffer through ten thousand nightmares just to have one dream like this, it is more than worth it.

I Just Don’t Know How

26 Tuesday Aug 2014

Posted by woundedmemories in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Poetry

I just don’t know how
To stop hurting you
When it feel like every word
Brings you more misery

I just don’t know how
To stay very far away
How can I heal
All the things I’ve broke

I just don’t know how
I can make this alright
And make you feel
Like you’re whole once more

Please tell me how
I can hold you in my hands
There I go again
Bringing nothing but ache and pain

And I really don’t know how
To stop loving you
Even though I know
It’s slowly breaking you down

All I do know
Is that you didn’t scare me away
Even though I can’t say
I didn’t scare you

Some

26 Tuesday Aug 2014

Posted by woundedmemories in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Love, Poetry, Sorrow

Some losts
There are no coming back from
Some losts
There is no being found

Some days
The world feels just too big
Some days
The noise just doesn’t stop

Some loves
Feel like the hurt has no limit
Some loves
It feels like all I do is hurt her

Some nights
It feels like maybe we had a chance
Some nights
I knew we were never meant to be

Bathed in Blood

24 Sunday Aug 2014

Posted by woundedmemories in Poetry

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

blood, dark, Poetry

Dazed and confused
She looked around
Too much blood
Pooled on the ground
And on her hands

She doesn’t remember
What exactly happened
Just those fucks
With spite
On their tongues

Then a red haze
Blurred her mind
Crimson hues
And twisted thoughts

Memories flashed
Images painted
Inside her head

They laughed
They pointed
They said too much

Then they screamed
They cried
They bled
Until they died

And a smile slipped
Across a no longer
Innocent face
A face now
Bathed in blood

I understand

23 Saturday Aug 2014

Posted by woundedmemories in Musings

≈ Leave a comment

I understand the why, and God how I want to respect it… and I will. I know you will always be a part of me, and I know I will always be as part of you.

But I don’t know which scares me more…

The thought that when you come back I might not be in you’re heart and mind like I am now…

or that you’re going away hoping that when you come back I won’t be in you’re heart and mind the way I am now.

The night’s paradox

23 Saturday Aug 2014

Posted by woundedmemories in Dreams, Memories, Musings

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

musings, Nightmares

Night is always a paradox for me. The day is filled with masks, I’m never me. The night is the only time I feel close, but not exactly, myself.

But the night is also when the nightmares come out. Demons and monsters from my past, my self included, terrorizing me. Flesh ripped from bone, and skulls crushed with stone.

I’ve had nightmares for as long as I can remember. Certainly I’ve had trauma in my life, terrible things no one should have to suffer, and they all play parts in my nightmares now, but my nightmares started even before then, when I was 3.

I’ve never told anyone exactly what those dreams were, and I expect I never will. To be honest, it would probably seem silly now, but to a 3 year old, it was terrifying.

Maybe I was wired wrong from the beginning. Who knows. Hell, if I go more than a week without them I feel… off. As if something is missing. They have become, no, they have always been a part of me.

Still, I hate them. I nightmare more nights than I don’t, and over the years have resisted sleep more and more. The only time I get to sleep peacefully is when I’m drunk, or when the sun is out, as if it were a Devine flashlight scaring the demons away.

So… The night. The only time I feel something close to the real me, but also the time that my demons get to feast on me. I sometimes wonder what happens when there is nothing left of me for them to devour.

The paradox of the night. My savior, my prison. My paradox.

Broken Kisses

22 Friday Aug 2014

Posted by woundedmemories in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Poetry, romantic

The way I kissed
Her tender lips
Gentle at first
Then in crashing waves
 
I knew I shouldn’t
And I knew
it would end up
Breaking her
 
And that in turn
Would end up
Utterly and completely
Breaking me
 
But God help me
I could’t help myself
And so
I did it anyway
 
And now
All we have left
Are each other
And our broken kisses
 

Enough

21 Thursday Aug 2014

Posted by woundedmemories in Poetry

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

hope

The way we held on
Even when we knew
It was all so slowly
Falling apart
 
And even when
Everything was gone
And there was
Nothing left
 
Somehow
There was us
And that was
More than enough

In Another Story

20 Wednesday Aug 2014

Posted by woundedmemories in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Love, Poetry

In another story
You and I
We ran away
We loved
And we
Found a way
To live
In another story
Not this one

But tell me
Please tell me
If you
Had a chance
Would you
Read that story
Or would you
Simply
Put it away

← Older posts

Recent Posts

  • Immeasurable
  • In the Balance
  • The Nightmare Begins
  • This Dark Room
  • Almost

Recent Comments

woundedmemories on OK
bearpokes on OK
woundedmemories on OK
Antanya In The Fog on OK
Antanya In The Fog on I Have No Idea How

Archives

  • April 2021
  • May 2020
  • October 2019
  • September 2019
  • August 2019
  • July 2019
  • December 2017
  • February 2017
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014

Categories

  • Dreams
  • Memories
  • Musings
  • Poetry
  • Prose
  • Uncategorized

Meta

  • Register
  • Log in
  • Entries feed
  • Comments feed
  • WordPress.com

Recent Posts

  • Immeasurable
  • In the Balance
  • The Nightmare Begins
  • This Dark Room
  • Almost

Recent Comments

woundedmemories on OK
bearpokes on OK
woundedmemories on OK
Antanya In The Fog on OK
Antanya In The Fog on I Have No Idea How

Archives

  • April 2021
  • May 2020
  • October 2019
  • September 2019
  • August 2019
  • July 2019
  • December 2017
  • February 2017
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014

Categories

  • Dreams
  • Memories
  • Musings
  • Poetry
  • Prose
  • Uncategorized

Meta

  • Register
  • Log in
  • Entries feed
  • Comments feed
  • WordPress.com

Blog at WordPress.com.

Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy
  • Follow Following
    • Wounded Memories
    • Join 220 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Wounded Memories
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar