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Playback
Hey - is this recording?
Hello, hello.
Mic check.
Can you hear me?
How do you use one of these thi-
Oh, it’s recording!
Alright… Um…
I’ll only say this once, so listen closely, okay?
I love you.
Rewind
I love you.
Rewind
I love you.
Rewind
I-
Rewind
-lie in bed for what has felt like hours, but might have been minutes, or days.
The ticking clock harshly announces the passage of time in agonisingly slow seconds,
each one harshly punctuating the deafening silence.
It’s been 70,184 seconds since last midnight.
16,216 seconds left until the next one.
Part of you awaits expectantly for 12:00 AM,
as though the passage of one day to another means anything.
But what use is there in thinking of a future that is identical to the present?
Tomorrow will be the same: lying in bed for hours upon hours,
everything losing its flavour and colour as you wait for something,
anything, without knowing what that is.
Tomorrow will be like today, and yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, and the day before that, and the day before-
Rewind
I love you
Rewind
Another part of you is terrified of the passing time,
Extremely, painfully aware of the time you’re wasting.
The world around you moves
forward,
The people around you move
forward,
Time
Inexorably
Moves
Forward,
And you’re stuck here, trapped,
awake but not lucid,
dreaming but not asleep,
past and future and present and past all
flowing into one another under the painful, eternal
now,
as I try to do anything, anything
else try to get out of bed try
to leave this room try
to break free of this cage try-
but when the present is unbearable and the future nonexistent,
the past is the only place you can
escape
Rewind
-to that summer
I remember you took me by the hand and led me to that spot by the lake while the thick autumn leaves crunched under our boots and you tried to skip stones with that consistent pat-pat-plop and maybe a sigh of disappointment and sometimes you’d make that snorting sound when you laughed and I said you sounded like a frog and you’d punch me in the arm and I would have to stop drawing and I loved drawing I loved drawing you skipping stones I love you I love you I love-
Rewind
-you but I-
You-
We-
We didn’t know, then, that
summer wouldn’t last forever and-
Rewind
I love you
Rewind
I remember-
I remember that last day you and I
meant us, that last day I remember I saw-
Rewind
-you
and you joked and laughed as your melting ice cream fell to the ground after a single bite and I’d laugh at you because who bites ice cream but you still wanted more so we shared that chocolate snack the one you hated but learned to love after I made you try it and we were surrounded by empty wrappers and the lingering taste of sweet and I looked into your eyes and they crinkled from smiling too much
and I wondered-
Rewind
-how could you
Smile
after that night?
You said you’d always be there for me.
Where were you when I needed you?
You made an accident, broke it all by accident, but
how could you shatter me, so wholly
and completely,
and
smile?
I remember
I was ready to try and forgive you again but
when I looked into your eyes and saw not a
twinge of emotion or regret,
I realised that was it.
We shattered that day into you and I,
and you’ll-
we’ll never be able to fit the pieces back.
Rewind
I love you
Rewind
Maybe things could have been different,
Maybe if I never tried to speak to you, maybe if I was smarter, maybe if I was better, maybe if I never tried, maybe if I tried, maybe if I was never like this, maybe if I was just better, maybe if so many things were different
But they’re not.
And I remember-
I remember you said-
Rewind
-you wished that you could go back and that you could make things right and that you could do so much more than you did and that you could undo so much that you did and your head hung low held between clasped hands like you were praying but you couldn’t look me in the eye and I was silent and I realised then that my silence hurt you more than my anger and
you promised that you’d try to do better, be better, be the person I needed and
you promised that next time would be different, that things were different this time round and
you promised “I love you” and
you promised-
Rewind
-didn’t you?
But I’d rather you never promised at all.
You tried,
or at least tried to try,
but couldn’t.
Like the time before and the time before that and-
and the time before that you-
Rewind
-tried to skip stones with that consistent pat-pat-plop and maybe a sigh of disappointment and-
Rewind
-you said
you tried your best,
but your best should have been better.
But of course
why did I expect anything different?
This is how it was always going to end.
It doesn’t matter how much we try anymore.
We’re past that point,
far past that point,
and there’s nothing left here.
A part of me wants to believe that you’re waiting-
that you’re waiting for me outside that door,
that it was all a bad dream,
that you and I are still We,
that you were there, you are there for me,
that we live in the world where things can be okay.
Where we can be okay.
But I know you’re not there.
I know I can’t leave this cage.
I know things can’t-
I know we can’t be okay now.
I know.
You don’t have to tell me, okay?
I know.
All we have left-
All I have left are memories,
replayed again and again,
back to then,
back to happy,
back to us,
slowly fading,
breaking,
until all that remains is
the memory of a memory
Rewind
the memory of a memory
Rewind
I love you
Rewind
I l ve y u
Rewind
I l v y
Rewind
I v y
Rewind
I v
Rewind
I
Rewind
I
Rewind
I
Rewind
Rewind
Rewind
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I think that we often think of memories as a positive force. Memories are what tie us to the past and remind us of happy times. Memories make us who we are.
In this poem, I wanted to explore the dark side of memory. It is a double-edged sword; as they tie us to the past, so too can they trap us, memories of happier times causing ourselves to retreat back to earlier days before the "now" became too painful to bear.
Memories make us who we are, and the intent of this poem was to show someone who has only memories left; someone, who, in fleeing their present, becomes addicted to the past even as their memories slowly fade away. What begins as escapism can quickly become torture of our own design. I hope this poem can help people connect with or confront their own memories, both painful and soothing, and perhaps help them avoid interring themselves in a prison of their past.