This poem felt really important to write when I was stuck in a rut and finding fault in everything. Complaining and holding a grudge with what has already happened is something we may need to do perhaps to make improvements on situations and to try and make a stand, but surrounding yourself with it leaves you without closure on events, without a sense of perspective and damages those rose-tinted shades we will need time and time again to get through life. To me personally, it was important to also touch on how there can be mourning and an overall idea of goodbyes and death with grieving, but we need to let go slightly of the past without neglecting the memory of what is gone or what happened to us.
To mourn is
to find the words to say
goodbye.
Forgetting should be
seen as
neglecting
your past,
but memories serve as fuel:
They help heat,
nurture the cool;
They can burn,
become one person’s own
historical hell
Although I try,
it slips my mind,
and I’m left alone, tired.
No closure whatsoever.
To complain is
to find a fault, and to
point out
all the wrongs, so it is
able to change. But
The echoes of mistake make it difficult,
to separate past from fiction or to let
go?
No.
It’s for me to
edit and re-write a grievance,
something I’ve done wrong.
