Time to be Forgotten

A time to be forgotten,
A time long, since it’s passed.
A time that’s stayed with me,
Kept me,
Held me,
Gave me hope.

A time, a renewal, a start and bright light.
Ending, abruptly, yet also calmly.
Ended, with great emotional loss.
Time passed, anticipation for,
Time passed, wanting, hoping and keeping hope.
Keeping those lessons learnt,
Keeping those feelings,
The hope for what’s next,
Happiness for what I’ve got,
The Kindness for all hurt.
The ability to move on, to live on.

This time long ended,
I cannot ignore the echoes of my own voice,
In a chasm of the dark.

This time.
Long since ended,
I convinced myself, hoped,
It was there still,
Or it would be.

Yet, I have come to learn that no.
I’ve been living a lie.
A happy one, perhaps.
But every lie needs an end.
Now I stand here.
Thinking of all having gone past.
All being lost.

Having lost that direction,
I thought I once had.

A time, once forgotten.

Thinking. A person contacted me. One I haven’t heard from in a while. Got me thinking. Got me thinking of the end. How it was an amazing time, got me out of somewhere so lost. Got me recovered. But, then just ended like it never happened. An end. It’s difficult. Thinking. Remembering it has kept me alive since, kept me happy, even despite times of sadness. But with this, I am just reminded of how, maybe it is… a time to be forgotten.

Pained Path

Pained path,
Pained time,
Thinking back,
To the pain of my past,
The pain lingering to present.
The arbiter of pain looking on.

Trying to find,
To think,
To make the path again.

The pain coming back.
The malicious smile.
A pained path I walk.
Trying to walk.

Aching and in pain.
My past,
The scars on my mind.
The broken walk,
Trying to move past.

On I try,
Knowing the past that must be taken.
Trying to further,
To move.
Despite the malicious smile.

Walking along this pained path.
A path, to walk, until it ends.
When the pained path,
Becomes one of joy,
Of happiness.
When the demons of my past have been killed, extinguished, laid to rest.

For now, I find myself.
Walking this pained path.

Feeling a little sad. Thinking. Just a bit stressed but will pass, using the poem for catharsis.