Tell Me

When the memories of words you said once come drifting into my mind, lifting sanity and satisfaction. I wish I could forget. I cannot. So I rewrite. 

When I've written over the words, emotions come to get me. And those I cannot stop. I hold my hand against a giant wave, I scream to say enough. They batter me. Yet they do not drown me. 

I float, sun side up- I want to get up. My mind reminds me of everything around me, every bit of beauty. Yet I cannot get up. I am unworthy.

I cannot see past the broken belief that I, me.. 

I'm still here. This place of need. I'm ashamed, because I believed every note of music that you sung. 

I let you in and I should be able to let you out and you've left me broken to bits, to scrap and scavenge for promises kept- and I still want you here. 

What does it feel - to be free? To live life like memories lived were no more than mere thoughts mid sleep between awake and alive?

To have hope for a sunrise that doesn't remind you, instead propels you forward to a day lived simply and for one. 

Oh leave me and my mind alone, memory. Just let it be.