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Wounded Memories

~ Anonymous place to let spill my wounded memories

Wounded Memories

Author Archives: woundedmemories

Immeasurable

25 Sunday Apr 2021

Posted by woundedmemories in Poetry

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Anger, Loss, Sorrow

I had no choice
But to put it all in a box
It was the only way I knew
How to do
What I knew most be done

It’s buried now
That immeasurable grief
That anger
Maybe a hint of regret

If that box
Ever somehow seeped
I’ve no idea
If I would survive

In the Balance

18 Sunday Apr 2021

Posted by woundedmemories in Dreams, Poetry

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darkness, Dreams

The ghosts are screaming
      in my head again
The ones I’ve wronged
The ones I’ve righted
I think my soul
      lays in the balance
But if I’m being honest
I’m not sure who
I want to win

The Nightmare Begins

04 Monday May 2020

Posted by woundedmemories in Dreams

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Dreams, Nightmares

Falling asleep, your eyes flutter closed.

Imagine you’re standing straight up in an empty room. You fall backwards, when you hit the floor you shatter like glass into a million pieces.

But the room flips upside down and on the other side of the floor your pieces reassemble so that you’re standing standing straight up again.

Your eyes flutter open. You look around, confused. You don’t realize it, but this is your nightmare. And things are about to get bad.

This Dark Room

20 Sunday Oct 2019

Posted by woundedmemories in Uncategorized

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A setting sun
But I can’t see
A rising moon
But I can’t see
I’m alone
In this dark room
There are
No doors
There are
No windows
And I can’t remember
If my eyes are open
Or if they’re still closed
And I guess one day
It just stopped mattering
The world just fades
When you’re alone
In this dark room

Almost

15 Sunday Sep 2019

Posted by woundedmemories in Uncategorized

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Of all the things
That break us
I think maybe the worst
Are the almost’s

Those words
You almost spoke
Her heart
That almost fell
Your heart
You almost gave
That love
That almost was
The life
You almost had

How many almost’s
Can we endure
How many almost’s
Before we break
Beyond repair
How many nights
Must we wonder
What almost
Might have been

Limbo

14 Saturday Sep 2019

Posted by woundedmemories in Uncategorized

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It isn’t that
I want to die
It isn’t that
I want to live
And I guess that
Is the issue
It’s simply that
I exist
It’s simply that
I survive
This day passes
Into the next
I don’t know that
I feel too much
I don’t know that
I feel too little
I float along here
In some kind of limbo

Pull

07 Wednesday Aug 2019

Posted by woundedmemories in Uncategorized

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I’m not sure
Which is stronger
The tidal pull of her
An unending ache

Or darkness’s gravity
Dragging me
Into my own abyss

And too many nights
I lay awake wondering
If they aren’t the same

OK

04 Sunday Aug 2019

Posted by woundedmemories in Musings, Prose

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I’m not ok, but I’m ok. This seems to be at odds, but a bit like superposition, both are true.

The fact is I’ll never be ok. This emptiness inside, these nightmares that follow me into the awake, this rage that I hide, but is always there… I’m not ok, and I hate the question. There is no real answer. Any answer it’s a lie or partial one.

But it’s ok. Really it is. That emptiness; it’s always been there, it always will. Those nightmares; sometimes the monster is after me, sometimes I’m the monster – either way, they’re all I know. And that rage; without it, I would have let go, so very long ago.

Don’t ask me, don’t make me lie. But know, even if I lie, I’m telling the truth. I’m not ok, but that’s the only ok I’ve ever known. So believe me when I say, I’m ok.

Welcome to the Fade

04 Sunday Aug 2019

Posted by woundedmemories in Poetry

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Goodbye’s whispered
    in hushed voices
Eyes averted
From fear or sorrow
I’m just not sure
Maybe it doesn’t matter
Maybe it never did
All I know is
The empty grows
Every fucking day
Welcome
    to the fade

What Happens

28 Sunday Jul 2019

Posted by woundedmemories in Memories, Poetry

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I used to say
My memories
Were like razor blades
Inside my veins

They hurt
To rip them out
But they hurt more
To leave them in

But what happens
When the words
To pull them out
No longer heal

What happens
When every mask
Becomes too heavy
To even wear

These things inside
They often hurt
The boxes I keep them in
Are too many to count

So tell me
Someone please
What happens
When I’ve nothing left

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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

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