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Wounded Memories

~ Anonymous place to let spill my wounded memories

Wounded Memories

Tag Archives: Death

More Goodbyes Than Hellos

27 Friday Feb 2015

Posted by woundedmemories in Poetry

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Tags

Death, Loss, Poetry

I don’t know if it’s simply
That I’m getting to that age,
Or if it’s how difficult it is
For me to let new people in
But it feels like I am having
Less people coming into
    my life
Than people leaving
    my life
Either through death
Or them simply walking out
There are more exits
Than entrances
And no matter how many times
I have to do it
Saying goodbye
Never get any easier

Life’s Noose

11 Sunday Jan 2015

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Death, Life, Poetry

Noose around my neck
Made from threads of life
Everyday slipping tighter
And somehow I’ve become
Just a little too comfortable
With the way it feels
Longing for the comfort
Of when I breathe no more
And the noose finally loosens

I’m Not Afraid

30 Tuesday Dec 2014

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Death, Poetry

I’m not looking for death
I’m just not afraid of it
And won’t be sad
When it comes

I don’t walk towards it
But nor do I walk away
It dances in my mind
More than it should

And I’m not sure
I’ve ever said
Anything more honest
In all my life

These are the thoughts
That swim through my mind
At 3AM in between
My bitter midnightmares

I’ve Walked Past Your Grave

30 Tuesday Dec 2014

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Death, Poetry

I’ve walked past your grave
A million times
And talked to you
In my head
But I can’t seem
To get the courage
To visit you for real
Somehow I fear
It will make it
More real than it is
At least when I visit you
In my mind
You still still talk back

The Clock Stopped Ticking

23 Tuesday Dec 2014

Posted by woundedmemories in Poetry

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Tags

Death, Poetry, Sorrow

The clock stopped ticking
The moment you closed your eyes forever
And I have been watching it ever since
Waiting…
For what, I am not sure
I know it will never tick again
And I know I need to put it down
But I just can’t seem to find the strength
To let go
I seem to be holding
Far too many clocks
That have stopped ticking

The Unheard Whisper

18 Saturday Oct 2014

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Death, Poetry, Sorrow

I whispered her name
As she laid in my arms
But she couldn’t hear me
She would never hear
Anything ever again
And I wondered
    such an odd wonder
Had I whispered her name
Enough while she
    was still alive
If I had whispered it more
Would she still be here
How many things
Could I have done
Should I have done
To keep her here

Walking Through the Garden of the Forgotten

02 Thursday Oct 2014

Posted by woundedmemories in Musings, Poetry

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Death, Poetry

Sometimes
I walk through cemeteries
Looking at headstones
Wondering how many people
Have forgotten
That person ever lived

Then I wonder
If someday
Someone will walk past
My headstone
And wonder how many people
Have forgotten I ever lived at all

I feel in some sick way
I’ll be more connected
To that person
Walking through
The Garden of the Forgotten
Than with most during my life

There Are Some Things the Rain Can’t Wash Away

24 Wednesday Sep 2014

Posted by woundedmemories in Poetry

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Tags

angry, dark, Death, memories, Poetry

There are just some things
That the rain can’t wash away
Not sins and not memories
History just can’t be undone

I still hop the train once in a while
And walk that sidewalk downtown
Sometimes I imagine
The bloodstains are still there

But of course they aren’t
The rain has washed them away
Far better than time has done
At washing away the memories

How quickly things changed
That sunny summer day
How much some things
Just seem to stay the same

I still love to stand out in the rain
With my face tilted to the sky
Hoping that there are things inside
That the rain can finally wash away

The Fading Light

09 Tuesday Sep 2014

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Death, Loss, Poetry, Sorrow

I have seen the fading light
From sad dying eyes
Wiped away stinging tears
Of the last mortal cries

I held her softly in my arms
As she let out her final breath
I never knew her life was troubled
I hoped she found peace in death

I thought back to all those smiles
And wondered how many were fake
How often she wore a happy mask
Just for everyone else’s sake

There was so much I didn’t know
She told me everything in a final note
I had no idea how much we shared
I’d been through everything she wrote

Her last breath I’ll remember always
She whispered softly my name
And I felt everything completely shift
Since then nothing has been the same

Life and Death – My thoughts on the subject

02 Wednesday Apr 2014

Posted by woundedmemories in Musings

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Death, Life, Thoughts

Before I start on death, I should explain my views of life. I feel that we are more than the sum of our parts; in short, we have a soul of some sort. Our brains are nothing more than complicated electro-chemical batteries. A thought, in its simplest form is an electron passing between two nerve bundles. Say I want to raise my arm, an electron in my brain fires, sending the impulse down to arm, which responds. But the question is this – what causes the electron to fire in the first place?  I believe there is an underlying force, an element of our being that we cannot see, nor explain with current technology, and perhaps technology is the wrong place to look for the answers.

It is assumed by modern science that all matter and energy in the universe began from 1 single entity. It then it seems logical to me that we are still a part of that single entity, that we are a part of a larger unit, in this life, and after.

To make my thoughts easier to explain, and understand, let me use a metaphor. Imagine that underlying force I spoke about as a great single ocean. Obviously in life we are all different, in one way or another, but how different? Consider our bodies as glasses, or some other container, but each container shaped differently.

In life, we are filled with the life force of the ocean; we are born with little of the force, but as we grow, as our “containers” grow, it fills more and more with the fluid, and in death, our container is broken, and our force returned to the ocean, to become one with everything once again. When this force is in the “container” we would consider that our soul.

To expand on the metaphor, consider the base of the container as our more important functions, and the lesser functions towards the top – if u crack the top of the container, you might lose some of the force, but it can be repaired, and fluid returned. However, the lower the crack, the more serious, and the harder it is to fix.

The reason I make this distinction, is because I don’t agree with the most common theory of the soul – that when it passes to “the other side” we retain out individuality. It is human nature to want to preserve our individuality, but consider this: a person has an accident, and his container is cracked, namely his brain is damaged. This would be towards base of the container and thus serious.

I personally have known people who simply are no longer the same person after suffering an injury to the head. If our soul is our personality, how can damaging our body have an effect on our personality? Therefore, it seems logical that our individuality is a combination of our soul and our body/container.

So if when we die, our container is destroyed permanently, what of our personality? Here is the focal point of this my thoughts. I believe that when we die, and our container is broke, our force is returned to the ocean. This next part is the hardest to explain, and describe, but I don’t think our personality is completely lost.

If you pour a glass of water into an ocean, it is dispersed and mingles with the rest of the ocean. Some of that water may wash on the shore of the US, and some in the shore of Australia, it is spread all across the ocean, the essence of what was in the glass has mixed with the ocean, it adds back to the whole from where it came. It becomes one with the rest of the ocean, and yet, still it is the same force that filled the glass.

In other words the force that was the force that was in a person, what contributed to his individuality is added to the ocean. It spreads, its knowledge is added to the ocean, and at the same time, it becomes able to draw on the knowledge of the rest of the ocean. Everything become one thought, or essence, and still there are currents – signs of individuality

All of our loved ones before us, all that they were, are part of the ocean; and we are reunited with them, in the most intimate way possible. We become one with them and share share all of our memories, all of our sense of being, everything that made us, us.

So ultimately I don’t think we retain our individuality, but I don’t think it is exactly lost either.

 

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