I can't even remember

After traumatic events, I began to lose my memory... this poem depicts my hardships.

Monday morning.

I sit through hours of class.

I drive home,

Only to forget anything I had learned that morning.

I look at myself in the mirror, mourning the time I had lost.

My reflection asks back, who is the person you’ve become?

What have you done in the time you’ve lost?

The time lapse cripples my mind,

My sanity collapses, a fate unkind to my heart,

As I wonder how I’ve let myself get to this place,

This breaking point.

I can’t even remember.

 

Tuesday morning.

I take detailed notes in my phone when I think something holds importance.

Later on when I remember nonsense,

I read about my day, as if I hadn’t lived it myself.

My brain can’t comprehend the distance between coherency.

I’m losing myself, in the blank spaces clouding my memories.

In the depths of my being I feel like I’m falling,

Falling into a dark, threatening state of mind,

Of ominous confusion,

A blatant intrusion to snatch away the source of light,

The light that once freed me.

 

Wednesday morning.

I’m starting to wonder if this strain from normalcy has permanence,

Or if I’ll continue tripping down the stairs I’d spent years climbing.

I’m losing hope, yet I yearn to keep striving.

I want to know.

I want to regain all control.

Yet I’m being pushed under,

Without realizing I’ve forgotten,

Until I’m sitting in silence for an hour, unsure what I was doing.

Who else is going through this?

Am I the only one whose life has gone amiss with tragedy?

I know I am not,

But I feel s**t out of luck.

 

Thursday morning.

I take a me-day to cool all of my senses,

I go to counseling, to prevent implosion.

What’s wrong with me?

No one knows it, but I’m drowning.

If you pass me by, you’d never know of my struggling against the waves,

A constant splashing in my face of ice cold reality checks,

Reminders that I once had a past,

Some that I can’t remember now,

Especially of the night I felt this trauma,

The reason behind my hopeless loss of self.

Few care to ask what happened,

So I bury it, like my brain buries time from my mind.

 

Friday morning.

Freedom.

What once was sweet now tastes of bitter sadness.

I lose track of my self-destruction,

Relying on a friend to remember the morning’s antics.

A mass of tears,

Slamming to the ground from my cheeks,

Flashbacks blinding my vision,

My ability to see clearly compromised.

Apparently rather than feeling those moments of pain,

An executive decision designed in my brain,

As my unconscious choice is made,

To not record moments in my day to play back like it’s supposed to.

I remember nothing.

 

Saturday night.

I crave to feel something other than regret.

I’ve distanced myself from his presence in my past,

Yet I still am plagued by poisonous stings,

Inescapable feelings,

Regardless of what’s happening around me.

I see an earring,

One small impactful glint in his ear,

My focus is impaired,

My brain turns off the switch in the reaction center,

I am blank inside,

I no longer have a choice,

No, I am not free, I’m gone, tumbling in the void.

 

Sunday, I think.

The days have escaped me.

I need help,

But I fear that clinging onto what’s real will result in a mistake,

I live in a haze of disdain.

Am I crazy or insane?

Will I ever find my way?

Days pass like hours, and hours are lost as minutes,

A constant cycle of worrying that I’ll forget what’s important.

 

The week starts again when Sunday transforms to Monday.

All over again I wonder,

If I can’t overcome this,

How can I remember what’s real,

Or is this just a bad dream?

Because if it is,

I’d like to wake up now…

Author's Note

What do you think of the content? Should I have explained more or is it okay to leave some things ambiguous?