Wednesday, 12 May 1999
By Carolyn Ursabia (circa 1999)
[This was about my break-up with my first boyfriend.]
I’ve witnessed the rises and sets of many suns,
Spent, contemplating the past
Minutes, hours, days
That turn into years
And I find myself back here
Upon the same place
Where history came to pass.
Oh the memories that lie within
This withered an aged exterior.
I close my eyes but to hear
Gentle whispers of words once spoken
Into my ears from his lips;
The accompagnato of seagulls ‘cries o’ertop cars passing;
And the warmth of the sun on my skin.
That I reawaken into a time, a place - a world -
That doesn't exist.
As the past does not exist.
It is only in our minds that it exists.
Nothing tangible, nothing that is fact
Nothing to touch, see, or hear.
It is sometimes depicted in a picture, poem, or music,
And yet, never completely.
For our memories are biased
Only there to taunt us
And convince us that their existence is real
Each and every time we close our eyes…
Yet also to make us smile,
There to make us cry,
To recall the pain that has faded.
To reminisce about the love that didn't last,
To find ourselves unable to let go
Standing, but again, upon the scene
Where everything took place –
Because memories don’t exist.