Alissa Rogers Mar 2012
The throbbing headache and nausea
I can endure; I've had worse.
Right now I could cry,
such a raw hope consumed me
as I thought about you, desperate.
It was still dark for me then,
when I needed you. Now it's day.
It brings a true smirk to my face
to know you are nothing more
than a night of binge drinking:
a foolish part of my youth,
a consequence of boredom.
I could not hold your liquor,
I vomited all that bile you said to me
in the hedges outside. Don't fret,
this is not a bad memory, in fact
you might never be a memory at all.
I am well. I will drink better and
far more dangerous poisons.
I am today, you are only last night.
Patricia Tsouros Mar 2014
A flawless red curve of
Seductive lips
Your bold tongue
On the cusp of mine
I savor your words
Reckless declarations
Breathed down my throat
Slashing my soul
A wound that won’t heal
Exposed to the memory of
Memories that make it my ruin
The way you wrenched my heart
Racked my mind
Molested my soul
The desolation you left me with
When you were done

I look for Pink
To comfort and inspire
My emotional essence
You will see if you
Look into my eyes.
Janor Nov 2014
Some moments are not to be captured
not in a photo
not in a story
not anywhere
Some moments should only live in a memory
Nicole Dawn Jun 2015
Memory hits
Pain in head
Hands clench
Nails bite
Skin breaks
Memory gone

Sometimes I get hit by a horrible memory and I can't like breathe or see or anything until it's gone
Joe Cottonwood Jun 2015
The white-haired doddering gentle old man
in the crushing silence of the public library
blinking through spectacles
writes with shaking hands
in a pocket notebook
unaware that he is muttering to himself:
Her breasts… her breasts…

Eyes peer over books.  Pencils pause,
except the old man's.  Fingers
mark pages.  We await,
expectant, puzzled.  He has pulled a dusty volume
from the shelf of his memory
and still writing, whispers, hissing:
Her breasts…

I want to know: was it in moonlight?  
Hurried?  Forbidden?
Dear woman, take joy that after half a century
not only your lover but a whole reading room
of men and women are sharing — are in awe of —
your stunning warmth:
*Her breasts!  Her breasts!
True story.
Daniel Magner Nov 2012
There's nothing quite like
having your memory erased
the best thing that'll ever happen
the best thing you'll ever taste
are the drugs sliding down
your throat to splash
in the stomach acid
pumping chemicals through your veins

The synapses in my brain
are full of dopamine
and my serotonin levels
are off the charts
On the outside I stand tall
like a steel soldier
but on the inside I'm crumpled up
with a paper heart

How do I tell my mom
I'm on, walk in while
she makes her art, day before her birthday
What words would I even spit
how could I say I just downed
a bottle of codine, she'd disown me
So I stumble up stairs to my
old bed, pictures of my graduation
burn my head, but it's imagination
the room swirls but I'm station...ary

Started off with a bet, kids dared me
When your fifteen you don't
see the bad side, the glazed eyes
rolled back drifting, all you feel
is the lifting and the bass
pumping, through your chest blasting
off real life stress, you can't tell you're a mess
Rolling, feeling like the best

But now I can't sleep unless I'm on
and then I don't dream.
It's time to start taking steps
instead of X, I'll do reps at the gym
I'm done giving in, I done living in
fog, done being gone.

Yesterday me and Tony were on the go
driving slow, on the hunt for blow
picked up, lined up, he handed me the dollar bill
rolled up and I could feel my brain
screaming, yes, my veins aching, yes,
my hands reaching for the dollar but then...

I said no.
© Daniel Magner 2012
Forgotten Memory Jan 2016
Memory that I have forgotten
Why do you seek to be remembered
When you're allowed an eternal rest
Because of the connection severed

Yet, continuing to rebuild a bridge
You aim to come back inside
Even though my head is painful
You refuse to say good-bye

When I try to push you out
You stand your ground  profound
When I refuse to remember you
You choose to stick around

I begin to wonder why you can't stop
And leave me where I lay
Even now you cradle me with feelings
No matter what I say

Maybe after all this time that's passed
I've been thinking completely wrong
All these times I swore I was empty
You were there for me all along

Memory that I now remember
I'm sorry for what I've done
I promise to cherish you all my life
My heart is what you've won
Treasure your  memories for they make you who you are, and even if they are painful, they are something that is special to you, something nobody else could ever have, something that makes you the special person you are~
Fidgety Midget Feb 2015
She's a Narcissistic Bitch,
I quite often call her the Witch
She ground a good man down
through her greed and selfish desires
she has no room for sympathy or compromise
if the outcome does not involve her.

Now that he is dead
She won't leave him be
and keeps slandering his memory
hate is too good a word for her
but my god I'd love to punch her
Felicia C Jul 2014
You tip my femininity when you scratch my back with your stubble before you shave in the mornings and it is so lovely to be near one who can cry.

You wear heavy boots with the tip of the steel toe showing to match the glint of mischief bouncing off your eyeglass frames and i stand on your toes to kiss you goodnight on my porch in the snow where you brought me oatmeal cookies to talk with you about foundations.

I don’t know if you needed help with that paper, but I certainly needed the cookies.
January 2013
Audrey Maday Mar 2015
I think one of the most terrifying,
Is when you try to,
Remember someone and you can see,
Except their face.
If I die tonight,
One scary theory
Is true

If one memory repeats,
For all eternity
I hope it is about you
A scary but beautiful theory after death: your most cherished memories will repeat over and over and over again.
Alexandra Lynne Apr 2014
The moments I treasure most
everyday is a step closer
and a step farther away
farther from remembering
closer to being reunited
Ashley Swamy Aug 2014
I miss those hot Saigon nights,
Where I would sleep in the wake of your ginger tea.

Now all I am left,
Is With Dublin's rickety pier,
That provokes me to slip and slide with the rain.

And I can no longer smell your sweet ginger tea.
Random, but I love Saigon
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