It Wasn't Me.

June 3, 2003

I navigate the terrain in my head again.
The icy steps I take are familiar
because they are the same I always take.
I crawl into the depths of my memories.
I see still the hands that took
away all of my hopes and my dreams.
I hear still the screams that
make me access the terror
that just won't leave me.
The vastness of the sky
here before me now
is not enough to relieve me.
The vision of my past
has a grip like ice
crusted over my eyes.
I stepped out of myself at times.
I thought I could see in others
what life should have been for me.
This lie still haunts me.
No other life could have been mine.
Flowers growing on a wall,
soft pebble paths in front of me,
ever the honeysuckle blossoms of spring,
but these things are only
the dreams I create to forget myself.
I look up to that bright sky
but my clouded sight
has taken too much hold.
Only time can ease
the pain that trembles
inside of me, now.
The wrongs I have inflicted
upon those who came close to me
were just reaction in times like these
when reality is invisible to me.
The slights upon others
were just my own destructive paths.
I meant nothing.
I meant no harm.
I still regret these things.
I wish I could erase them all.
I miss what I might have been like
as if this was actually part of me.
I miss those I have pushed into the dust.
I miss myself.
I miss the way I might have never felt alone.
Maybe when this bout
has gone on its way,
I will see me, again.
Maybe when this memory
has passed back in my mind,
I will love me, again.