Archive for the 'The Past' Category

15
Oct
16

Confessions

There are things

That

I will have

To carry

To my grave,

Unable to

Speak them,

And make

The confession

Of what I did,

What I feel,

What I want,

Or who I am.

There are things

I can

Never

Give words to,

Because

Their simple existence

Within

My mind

And memory

Are

Too much

For me

To live with.

The truth

Is

Supposed to set us

Free,

But mine

Hangs

From my neck,

Like a heavy chain

Attached to an anchor

Falling deeper

Into the abyss,

Where water goes

From sparkling blue

To darkest black.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

October 15, 2016

31
Jan
16

When

How long ago

Was it,

Exactly,

When you

Stopped

Feeling

Like trying?

When

Did it become

Acceptable

To be

Unfeeling

And distant?

When did

Two beds

Become

Better

Than one?

When

Did the space

Between us

Begin to feel

Better

Than

The feel

Of our bodies

Touching,

Wrapped around each other,

And breathless?

Just so you know,

That never happened

For me-

I still ache

For what you

Abandoned

Long ago.

The memories

Are

Less sweet

Now,

And more painful,

Which seems the worst

Betrayal of them-

The worst betrayal

Of us.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

January 31, 2016

23
Feb
14

Enough red wine

After

Enough red wine

And a bit

Of sad music,

I’m ready

To write

About every broken heart

I’ve ever experienced.

The memories return

Quickly,

Rushing to the surface,

Faster than I can

Open another bottle

To drown them again.

Once awakened,

Back from the dead,

Pulled out

From underneath

My happiness,

They will not

Shut up,

They will not

Leave me alone-

And I am

Powerless

To stop them.

Each hurt,

Each lie,

Each kiss,

Each tearful goodbye with fingers entwined, standing in the doorway of her apartment, begging for another chance to show her I can change and be the man (or boy) she wants me to be…

Each failure

To keep her

Longer.

 

Once the bottle is empty

And the music is

Playing,

It’s as if

She said goodbye

Tonight,

Even though

She said goodbye

Twenty years ago,

Or ten years ago,

Or yesterday.

She’s gone,

But her memory

Is alive-

Every one of them.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

February 23, 2014

24
Jan
14

I remember why I can’t forget

I can

Remember

A lot to things

About our

Us-

The feel of her

Skin

On my fingertips,

My tongue,

Or pressed against

My body,

Sweaty

And shaking.

I can

Smell her

On the winds

Of my memory-

Her favorite

Lotion

Mixed with

Sweat

And kisses

All over her

Body.

The feel of her

Teeth

Against my tongue

As it searched

For more,

And the smell

Of her

Hair

Filled my nostrils,

While my arms

Pulled her

Trembling body

Tighter against mine,

And her hot breath

Burned

My neck.

But mostly I remember her and her sweetly crooked smile, and the slightly bucked teeth that would appear below her upper lip when she grinned, or laughed her ever-so-slightly too loud laugh.

I remember

How

She made me feel-

Whether good or bad.

 

I remember why I can’t forget.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

January 24, 2014

20
Jan
14

Montreal

I wanted

To reach

For your hand

On the cobbled streets

That were not

Home

To either of us.

We walked

And talked,

Both of us

Thinking

The same thing

Differently-

Will he,

Should I,

What if,

Does she,

And then?

But we didn’t

Then,

Or after.

And yet

We have so many

Beautifully flawed

Memories-

You told me

About the tattoo

You would get,

We laughed a lot,

We shared a drink,

We hugged

And shook hands,

Awkwardly,

At the door to your room,

After walking

For hours,

Just to be together.

All for nothing,

But not entirely

Without meaning.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

January 20, 2014

 

20
Jan
14

I’ve stopped trying

I’ve stopped trying

To stop

Trying

And wanting

Things

To be different.

Things aren’t

Different

And I’ve accepted that,

Since I can’t

Change

Anything

But how I deal

With the reality

Of us.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

January 20, 2014

24
Jul
13

Can’t stop

I can’t

Stop caring,

I can’t

Stop hurting,

But I have to

Start living

Again-

Just like you

Already have.

You’re gone

Forever,

I see that

Now.

They say

That we learn

From our pasts,

But I’ve learned

Nothing,

Except love

Is always

Imperfect.

“Life goes on”,

Doesn’t it?

I hope so

Because I have to

Go on living-

I did

At least

Learn

That much

From you.

 

Timothy Vance Jackson

July 24, 2013




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