I cannot remember.
Remember what it was like.
To be happy and care-free.
To have my innocence.
What I do remember is, that it was ripped from me.
Just like that, all that I was died.
Snuffed out like a breath on a candle's flame.
Torn, oh how I ache, I exist in perpetual agony.
No more tears have I.
No more time for the such.
Anger and rage have taken up all empty space.
Don't you dare try to help me.
I don't need your pity.
You just feel bad for what you have done to me.
You don't know what you have done to me.
I was once alive but I am now dead.
Without a heart and a soul.
You stole it all from me.
There is no going back.
This crimson stain will never be washed away.
This is all I remember now.
This is all that there is for me now.
Out of nothing comes only nothing.
This is all that I can now see.
Darkness, blacker than black.
Hate, I remember oh too well.
There you are with my blood on your hands.
You've gotten away with murder.
All I have left is emptiness and hollowness.
I can hear you laughing.
In the midst of my cries for death.
For release.
I don' t want to remember all that I've forgot.
I don't want to remember what I can.
SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY-(27/11/2012)
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I'd love to know what you think of this poem.