Dying Memories

A poem a wrote for people that are gone

Fight me, might be, right see, blight please light me another cigarette to choke on in this cool breeze

Watch the wind carry and ferry away everything I believe as I struggle to breathe today, grey summer sky leaves me blinded confided in a lie you said that fried my heart, I wonder why you did it

Feel my earthly wind bend and burn the heavens, you act stern and punish us, but I’m the one that should be angry, I’ve been dead since eleven, and you don’t belong up there, so just try and stop me

Breakthrough the wind and blow down the building rage inside me, you’re full of hot air, decide what is and isn’t fair, do it before the pain stands tall like a mountain inside this world and crushes you all under its weight before it’s too late

I am beyond the paltry hate inside you, my mountain is a hundred million corpses tall with a hundred billion memories in all, and none of them wouldn’t have accepted you in their still hearts or these borrowed halls

So start breaking me down in the earthquake of fake reason for hostility for the sound sake of your justice doesn’t bury your victims and neither does killing me

Begin to see the symptoms of the monster your becoming, the truths stunning, start running away from your humanity flee and bump into me, so I can stare at you full of sanity and say “I told you so” before you pull apart my image, my words, my soul, and add your own bull, make my mind your throne, with your heart of stone, but you’ll find that unless you keep in line death will find you a sublime hell where your yells won’t be remembered

Just like us and our dying memories, years of coloured stains on the canvas painted over dismembered since last December our coals and embers, souls rendered couldn’t burn your icy lies so fresh eyes can pretend they understand but never remember, and bend your reality into shape, ending fate, still, I wait

Destroy me, annoy me, betray me, dismay may be a sharp knife, a blade that pierced and maims me, blame me, but never will you shame me

Aim to be someone to name me a monster, sponsor the bloodworks, the hurt, stab my mind and drain my soul as I finish another bowl of your s**t

Fit to make decrepit b******s quit your fists say you know pain and fear, like giving it means you’ve mastered it, you’re not fit to say you know it, when you can’t take the hate you give just show it, so live seeing you were wrong know it, in the years way after I’m gone, my existence can finally show it

I’ve seen pastures of green, I’ve captured bliss, hit or miss, but I admit I only knew how good it was after you blew it to bits

Some things you can only understand when they’re gone, and now the ashes are cold and it’s been too long, time passes on, and I wonder how I did wrong to be punished by you so

 

I knew love before death fell from above and left me sniffing out memories of life back then like meth from the floor

Forgetting and letting you keep discrediting my efforts of resistance against tyranny like I’m useless, your truth didn’t put fear in me, it just isn’t real and you’re a man that doesn’t feel so steal what really happened and sugar coat it

Reality has become truthless because people are ruthless and crying is useless because there are no more tears left to shed, nothing left to grieve for, hope is dead

My fate was sealed before you peeled back the skin of my world and surgically removed us like cancer, breed your future in the heads of the ones that replaced my friends in the dread like it’s the answer

I’ll sate your appetite with my blood before we go to bed and all rot in the mud with the corpses you didn’t bother to bury, they took more pain than you could ever ferry

I carried on strong enough to stop what I felt was wrong, well it seems rough but I guess being still alive is no longer lucky, all I can do is hold on and mourn people no one remembers

It was pointless because one man can’t grasp the world in his hand, the harder I clench my fists in anger the more I miss as it falls through my fingers like sand, I demand justice, but that means a different thing in these lands I thought I knew

I might never understand why you demanded they’re deaths as payment, I want to scream at you asking why, but I don’t have the strength to say it, and I might as well lay the memories out and watch them decay with every passing minute, I’m in it, death lives here, I bathe in it

It’s pointless to anoint this last kiss of death as God's wish, you did this by your own hand, your selfish demands but I can no longer stand when I do so over the skeletal remains of a sane world rotten forgotten I should have fought and now I can’t, the battles already spent and we’ve been sent to ferment in the depths of hell

And besides, someday, my memories of their memories are going to die with me and be forgotten, and I couldn’t sell a bit of truth because even that you stole from them.

Author's Note

It was possible to put more rhymes into this piece, but I decided to focus more on the imagery. Also, this is a serious poem for me, so I felt I needed the words to be clearer.

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