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It's The Memories He Left Behind

A poem about a broken engagement 

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It's The Memories He Left Behind
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His memory comes up all the time.

This one was tonight at eleven.

That's how I'm tortured inside the depths 

Of this Hell that once was my Heaven.

A memory starts with a few tears 

That quickly grow into a shower.

I plead with God to end it here

Before I lose all power.

But then I feel my sanity leaving

As the light dims into black.

By each memory my heart's still squeezing,

Comes attack after attack after attack.

In this Hell, his memory's torture

Is more than I can endure. 

I know it's slowly killing me-

Each one, a little more.

The more that I try to erase his image,

The more my mind tries to recover the pillage. 

So it digs up the remains of our lost bond,

Because it knows that I can't suppress 

All the agony it makes me feel,

And the grief I tried to suppress.

I want to run those memories out, 

So one day I might be whole.

But I can never rid myself of him, 

Because he's embedded in my soul.

I won't ever shake thinking of him, 

No matter how much I try. 

Whatever I do just backfires, 

And the pain intensifies.

I have to distract my ears 

To block out all of his sounds.

The sting of hearing his voice again  

Always takes me down. 

Then comes the regret and guilt

That decays me even more.

I start to replay everything 

Where I was wrong before. 

I'll never forgive for losing him.

It will haunt me in my grave.

I've failed to get back the only love 

I have ever wanted to save.

So I fall down again and cry to God-

"Please take these memories away!

I don't understand why you let me love like this  

If you planned to take him away?"

The reality that he's actually gone 

Rips open my stitches again.

I can't breathe knowing he wants someone else 

In places where I've only been.

But the twisted part of it all 

Is how the pain isn't always so grimm. 

Parts of me feel lucky I have it,

Since that's all I have left of him.

But I'm doomed to be submissive. 

I'm a prisoner of my own mind.

It's not what he took that has broken me

It's the memories he left behind. 

  

  

  

 

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