My books were in the empty gym.
I had to retrieve them --
I couldn't just leave them.
I slid back the door.
The sound of dark and silent
sang back to me,
and chilled me to the core.
I asked the darkness
if anyone was home;
there was no answer save the echoes.
I wanted to shout,
let my voice ring above the rafters
in mighty trumpet tones!
I grabbed my books and scuttled out,
alone.
********
I wrote this my freshman year in high school; a year after an event that left a hole in my memory for ten years. This poem is about the hole in my memory, and about PTSD.
Oh this is heart breaking!!! Such a sad hollow feeling this poem evokes.
ReplyDeleteThis is Lanetta.
At the time I had written the poem, I had blocked the memory out of my head, so the poem was literally about forgetting what happened. It became one of my touchstones to try to remember.
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