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Forgotten Dreams

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The sand in my shoes and under cracked fingernails
are the only memories I keep.
Scars remind me of promises kept and promises broken,
and memories stolen from behind doors
closed tight to keep out everything, real and imagined.

But it is impossible to imagine something you can’t remember.

Sleeping figures walk through the pristine streets
of an imagined world free from the constraints
normal to some, but alien to me. This world is my home.

I am unseen. I sit next to the children, watch them close their eyes
as the waves crashing on the beach lull us to sleep.
The boundaries of these rooms are gone
and the unknown beyond
scares me.

But I always remember this is my home,
even if I can’t remember why.
The walls fall away, and my audience watches as,
silently,
I shape my world to our whims.





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lilmartz This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jan. 22, 2011 at 10:19 am
This is incredibly good! No really, this is amazing! I loved reading this poem, and you are such a good writer! Nice job :)
 
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