Memories

I wonder where these days have gone,
these days full of hopes and dreams.
All that is left are my memories as it seems.
I stand at the edge of nothing and worst, I stand alone.
 
It is a place where I can't rest.
Best thing to do is to close my eyes and hold my breath.
Cause the shrouded shapes passing me by
have the tendency to make me cry.
 
The suffering apparitions of mysterious haze:
They carry the pictures of my passed days.
I see them kneeling and crying in front of me
and I can't help but to drown in this sea.
 
Their teardrops become mine.
And it happens from time to time,
that I hope to find pills
that stop me being this ill.
 
Though I know what the others always say:
"Leave the past and have  your way."
I still wonder how they manage to ignore
all that still lives inside of them and everything outside as well.
And therefore
they are blind for everything that can be felt.
 
I wonder how they can close their eyes
and pretend and create all these lies.
Whereas I feel the acid burning inside,
there are things we can't hide.
 
Still I feel your look full of malevolence.
But now maybe all this is just evidence
of the agony loving me
and maybe I learned to love my agony
or maybe all this just chased away my sanity.
 
 
written in 2006

• Autorensteckbrief von Justyna Stanisz
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