Drops of hot tears wet my pillow
Anger slowly welled up in me
Not the mild, get over kind but
The kind that increases with
Each passing moment
The memories. .. they had a firm grip on me
There was little I could do then
All I wanted was someone to talk to
Not because I wanted some sort of advice
But because I wanted someone to listen
Someone who understood it was my own way
Of projecting the pain and the anger
That lingered on the inside
I didn’t know who would listen
I wasn't even bold enough to ask anyone to
So I talked to myself
Sometimes thinking aloud
Speaking out my thoughts seemed to make
Them well laid out, crystal clear
One time I wrote a poem in order
To make myself feel better
I guess while writing it I felt less pain but
Once I was done writing it all came
Rushing back in like angry stray dogs that
Finally found the perfect home
All I could do then was pray and go to sleep
I had high hopes that the pain
Would be all gone by morning
And yea it was gone by the break of dawn
I woke up to new thoughts, fresh feelings
I was reminded of it some hours into the day
But I waved it off almost as fast as I recalled it
I tried convincing myself that I would
No more be bothered by it
But deep down I knew that was a facade
From facing the issue head on
The mere thought of it drained me
It only took couple of days for me
To get overwhelmed by it
In no time the pain and anger took their seats
As though they were quests who had been
Waiting to be called to the high table
The good memories
The good memories that brought smiles
They made an attempt to comfort me
They made little or no difference
I wondered if any of those even mattered
Mmnn. ..memories and even more memories
He failed to give answers that could have
Played a big part in calling a halt
To the massive ruin that was done to the memories
I wanted answers
Not fake or sugar coated answers that were
Carefully composed to make me feel better
I wanted the truth, the raw truth
I was sick and tired of being sick and tired
Of his one line reason
I wanted a detailed explanation
Actually, I felt my title made me deserve one
But I guess someone saw it differently
Way differently than I did
The thought of him was beautiful
It was like a glass of cold water on a really hot, sunny day
It held memories
Memories I wanted to hold unto
I had a mental picture of his happy face
I missed the deep crackling sound of his laughter
The peaceful tone of his voice when he called my name
That tone had a stunning effect on me
It was like a secret spice that added flavour to my day
At night, it was the lullaby that gently closed my eyelids
And sent me to a dreamland of even greater bliss
But then that was what it was
Now it is way different
The thought of him brings sad memories
It reminds me of all the things we could have done
All the places we could have gone
It leaves a sour taste
Like that of bitter, unripe 'udara’
Deep down I know holding on to the past
And being pumped with hate and regret
Will only make me sad 'Margaret'
In more ways than one
So I choose to let go
I release him from my heart
I now restore freedom to the frozen thoughts
Of him which I glued to my still memory strings
May they sail on a boat to some place far away
Somewhere they will get hold of new wings and soar
And If. .. if they ever come by again
I truly hope they bring along good memories
Memories of bliss.
BY: BRIDGET E. UKENI
This is a recording of my poem; Memories. The instrumental of the song "This Time" by John Legend is played in the background. (No copyright infringement intended)
