The Past that Never Goes Away

 

 

The Past That Never Goes Away

 

I made my way through many days,
Through so many torturous nights
I sat and held and endured things that
Would’ve long broken the fight
Of more whole, less cracked persons
After all these things, these years,
The hours locked that never seemed
To end, the bruises, welts, the tears,

 

That seem were becoming a part
Of me, routine, permanently
After sitting through the yelling,
All the screaming, and the throwing
The pitiful glances and shreds of
Comfort near strangers would give, in
Those days a rising, falling chest
Meant all it was to be, to live,

 

After all that, even after
Getting to Where, to Who I am,
The Past never goes away, it’s
Become something that I am,
I will always carry with me,
A shadow that follows my step
Even through high noon, in the sun,
There is no escaping it’s theft
Of my life, of what joy I can
Try to extract, try to live through
The Past, it never goes away,
It’s with me, whatever I do.

 

How much can a person take,
Before they crumble, fall apart?
Lies and false promises, dreams
Made of silver fragile glass,
Painted with deceptive trust.
Beatings, and being thrown away
In a hole in the ground, like
An animal, for come what may

 

Meant as just a punching bag,
Being reduced to a living nothing,
Being degraded, discarded and
Reclaimed for yet once more, again.
The past never does go away
It’s always there, watching in wait
For its chance, waiting for that one
Opportunity, break the gate

 

Come crashing into your world
To drag you down into the black
Fathomless depths of emptiness.
The past never does go back
Alone. it takes one flimsy door,
and gallops in to the now
To take it and futures away,
As though it was ordained somehow

 

No, the past won’t go away, it’s
What your nightmares are made of
And it will catch you unwary, to
Pull you in through thick and rough
The veils of each successive year
Will dampen its hold and its strength
But the past doesn’t go away,
It’s just waiting to get back in

 

Unless of course, you’ve let it in,
And let that grim man in the room
Sit and watch you, as you work
Instead of rotten and exhumed
He becomes a curious thing
Experience, a source, a way,
To know where it was you went wrong
And where you’ll never, ever stray

 

To you, the grim man in my room,
All I will say, it’s come to be,
I will always have to see you
Oft solemnly and bitterly
But you can’t overpower me,
I have seen you, I have been you
The holes of mind and earth are filled
The whole heart put as one with glue

 

So you are most welcome to come
To be my visitor, my guest
And some day I will greet you too
Not just endure, ignore, but bless
Some day I will look right through you
Through all that you still signify
Instead of that holocaust, I
Will see that yes, I survived..
I cannot preach but this is what
I’m learning everyday in bits..
The past will never go, but it’s
Our choice, what to do with it.

 

 

©CM
30.04.2013

 

 

 

Day 30 of NaPoWriMo, and here’s my almost last offering for the month. That’s right, almost last. For the last day, I’m putting up two poems!

I hope you liked this one. And I hope no matter what your past, you’re blessed with the strength to deal with, to love yourself no matter what you’ve been through. It took every little crack in the path to make you the person you are today, and you are perfect, flaws and all.

 

Because you’re a survivor. Because you’re you. And that’s not a bad thing at all.

 

Lots of love,

Cookie ❤