0 views
Unwanted Memories
I edged my way forcefully into the cold, jaded room;
Stumbling over my own footsteps,
Reluctantly remembering the face of a solitary, inadequate man.
He sat pitiful on the edge of the bed with a sorrowful gaze that seemed to fade as he turned to me.
My memories from that day still morph together relentlessly.
I took an uneasy step in distress,
My eyes fixate onto the unsettling bed that I had once slept in just under seven months ago that night,
Nothing had changed.
The bed was meant to be a warm place to dream and a peaceful place to lay and sleep but instead this bed was mournful and still,
Cold and discreet.
I remember laying motionless with eyes as wide as an owl and as red as a stoplight,
Head submerged in the flattened pillow trying to process all of the surreal thoughts I had during the day.
I slung the duvet over me and led motionless;
Letting the thoughts dwell in my head and the sound of cars that pass fade.
I let myself sink subconsciously into the obnoxious thoughts that never seem to disappear,
I drowned in my own tears that day,
That night,
I remember it all.
I remember the sound of the bell,
The chaos, the noise, the people,
I remember it all vividly.
The sound of crying,
The feeling of shaking and the sound of shouting that made the world feel as if it was collapsing,
I never thought it would happen this way,
The truth was out.
Everything I had created scenarios about when I was once frantically panicking inside my head,
Undesirably, had all came true that one sickening day.
I continue to lay motionless.
I remember sitting on my bed with a solitary, inadequate man whom sat pitiful with a sorrowful gaze that seemed to fade as he turned to me,
My Grandad.
His tears hidden behind a faint smile,
And his warm hands placed gently on my arms,
We walked in silence to the car that night,
Nobody ever came into sight.
The bed I lay in is mournful and still,
Cold and discrete,
And nobody knows how many undesirable memories I get when my eyes fixate onto the bed that was once a warm place to dream and a peaceful place to lay and sleep.
Nothing had changed,
Nothing will change,
It will still be a cold and jaded room that I lay motionless in.
I lay motionless in the mournful and still,
Cold and discreet bed.
Stumbling over my own footsteps,
Reluctantly remembering the face of a solitary, inadequate man.
He sat pitiful on the edge of the bed with a sorrowful gaze that seemed to fade as he turned to me.
My memories from that day still morph together relentlessly.
I took an uneasy step in distress,
My eyes fixate onto the unsettling bed that I had once slept in just under seven months ago that night,
Nothing had changed.
The bed was meant to be a warm place to dream and a peaceful place to lay and sleep but instead this bed was mournful and still,
Cold and discreet.
I remember laying motionless with eyes as wide as an owl and as red as a stoplight,
Head submerged in the flattened pillow trying to process all of the surreal thoughts I had during the day.
I slung the duvet over me and led motionless;
Letting the thoughts dwell in my head and the sound of cars that pass fade.
I let myself sink subconsciously into the obnoxious thoughts that never seem to disappear,
I drowned in my own tears that day,
That night,
I remember it all.
I remember the sound of the bell,
The chaos, the noise, the people,
I remember it all vividly.
The sound of crying,
The feeling of shaking and the sound of shouting that made the world feel as if it was collapsing,
I never thought it would happen this way,
The truth was out.
Everything I had created scenarios about when I was once frantically panicking inside my head,
Undesirably, had all came true that one sickening day.
I continue to lay motionless.
I remember sitting on my bed with a solitary, inadequate man whom sat pitiful with a sorrowful gaze that seemed to fade as he turned to me,
My Grandad.
His tears hidden behind a faint smile,
And his warm hands placed gently on my arms,
We walked in silence to the car that night,
Nobody ever came into sight.
The bed I lay in is mournful and still,
Cold and discrete,
And nobody knows how many undesirable memories I get when my eyes fixate onto the bed that was once a warm place to dream and a peaceful place to lay and sleep.
Nothing had changed,
Nothing will change,
It will still be a cold and jaded room that I lay motionless in.
I lay motionless in the mournful and still,
Cold and discreet bed.
