Behind The Wall Memories Live
written by: Cindy Georgakas
Behind the wall,
memories live.
Hiding in peeled paint,
cracked stucco and pasted on smiles.
Feelings get buried,
Hurt resides,
Turning a blind eye.
Overtime we crumble,
Facades fall,
Decomposing into a heap of rubble.
The end is the beginning,
Turning each fallen star,
into a guiding light.
Scared, discouraged.
We want to flee but
There’s nowhere to go,
But here.
They say patience is a virtue.
but if this is virtuous let me drown
In this sea to rid the pain.
Haven’t I suffered enough?
Am I paying some karmic debt?
For what is this life,
if always drowning
In my own blood?
I cry to the gods I curse,
I throw myself to the wind.
In hopes I might blow away.
When the last tear has been shed,
There is silence.
The demons have stopped their chatter,
I’m wrung out, exhausted,
too much effort to talk.
For this might not be euphoria,
But it’s what it means to be alive.
When the paint dries,
and we break the facade.
Behind the wall where memories live.
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