Remember

Do you remember how I died?

The fire, the fury, the dying light?

Do you remember the times that I lied

when it was too cold and dark to fight?

Do you remember the nights I cried?

Do you remember the person I was?

I don't remember

I don't remember

I can't remember

How do I sleep?

How do I laugh?

How do I smile when I want to weep?

When the tears won't come, how do I cry?

When I am hungry, how do I eat?

If others care, why do I lie?

How, how am I supposed to live

when I have nothing more to give?

Reviews

[Emunah June.]

Sometimes the hardest thing to do is take care of ourselves when we feel out of control of the world around us. I know that feeling all too well. I think that you portrayed that inner argument perfectly -- losing yourself to the world around you, asking even the most basic questions because our environment robbed us of that identity. I know that its easier said than done, especially in the grips of depression, but we must remember who we are and why we do what we do. What is our purpose? Why do we do anything? What do our tears shed for?

The writing here portrays that both beautifully and accurately. To ask "do you remember?" because we dont. I pray that, if this came from a sincere place from within, you have since found the strength to answer your own question. You deserve happiness. An excellent, somber piece, proving to be very thought provoking and a good, valuable lesson that is easy to be taken away by any reader. Well done.

[Urza's Severed Head]

Trying to remember what you were before is so hard, especially if you’ve struggled with mental illness for a long time. Hiw much of ‘you’ is actually you, and not just your pain. I haven’t found the answer, but I hope anyone who reads this poem can have some catharsis through the safe lense of art.