There's a hole in my chest where my heart used to be.
Nothing left but pain from the memories.
Never even knew
Always lied to
Never hearing you confess
Always finding out the rest
Never knowing what was best
Always saying, "Let it rest."
Never making new memories
Always hating because now we're enemies.
*jm

The years of memories
pile up like cord-wood
stacked randomly,
a Jenga game of blocks
balanced  precariously,
verging on toppling
when a piece near the bottom
is removed too carelessly.


Memories must dwell in the past,
forever in the life of the mind.
They cannot be pulled out,
touched and held,
nor lived over and over again,
except perhaps in dreams.

Eileen Auger
3/22/14

It's hard to enjoy every moment
When my mind's constantly looking ahead,
Ruining any chance of me fully appreciating the present ever again.

Time is a funny thing...
Always pushing us forward,
But leaving us wishing we could stand still and keep the present close.

Is there such thing as the present?
Or does every moment come and go?
Leaving us always in the future
Never allowing us to be in control?
*jm

My fingers have learned
how it feels
to get burned.
When your every
“I’m Sorry”, left a scar,
deep and unearned.

The words on your lips
whispered the truth
while you slept.
Leaving me no longer wondering
why you smiled
as I wept.

My heart finds itself smiling
into the numbness
of your vacancy.
Your memory’s grown silent
and is now dead
to me.

I'm made of porcelain
And of glass.
Kick me once,
And watch
As my fragile body
Starts to crack.
Kick me twice,
And watch
As I fall and shatter to pieces.
But this porcelain doll
Won't be defeated.
Our true creator
Always pulls through,
Mending every one of His children
With healing hands and glue.
*jm