Time softens all the jagged edges
The lens is hazy, out of focus
Lay the gauze across my recollections
When I remember what became of us…
Promises whispered, drunk on wine
I’d believe your whitewashed lies
And dull deceptions polish to a shine
Trace my lips with your fingers, smile
Make me slave to your obsessions
A naive girl at your mercy
Just another trinket for your collection
Love, a lie, sweetness and agony
Then depart without a warning
Despise myself, knowing I’d forgive you
Empty hours of constant yearning
To start again like something new
When you’d return with total assurance
That I was helpless to resist you
Confident of my acquiescence
You’d break my heart anew
And yet those days, those heady days
Of books and wine and conversation
The nights in your tender arms I’d lay
Then wake in solitude once again…
So I choose the pieces that I want
Tiny fragments, bring me joy
And cast aside those that haunt
When I was your plaything, wicked boy
Image courtesy Indian Express
Here’s to selective memory and celebrating the best bits from our past – the long ago recollections that can still unfurl feel-good chemicals at the speed of thought.
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I’m with you. Thanks, Glen.
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Love this, Meg!
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Thank you, Al!
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Life seem so much better when you only remember the best parts!
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It’s so true. And memory is a funny thing… Sometimes, painful memories seem as keen as if the event had just happened and other times you remember almost like it happened to someone else. An imperfect defense mechanism I suppose.
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Oh, so true. I’m getting better at not dwelling on bad memories…
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Something I’m working on too!
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🙂
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Wow, Meg. That was powerful and wistful. I was right there….
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Thank you, Kay. Digging deep for that one…
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And I love that! 💜
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Wonderful Meg, beautifully written. It’s fascinating how the mind selects what and how it wants to remember things. Please have a wonderful Saturday. ~ Mia
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Thanks, Mia. A defense mechanism, although imperfect sometimes. I wish you a wonderful weekend as well!
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You’re welcome Meg, thank you!
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Hmmm Kierkegaard had something to say on selective memory, I have forgotten exactly what though. Quite a surreal image Meg. Good poem.
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I mentioned in another comment that I believe it’s the mind’s defense mechanism, although imperfect. Some memories are felt as keenly as if the event was recent. Interesting the pathways our brains use or lose. Thank you!
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Are you didn’t get my joke
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*Zoom* right over my head- and it’s a good one too!
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Selective memory is my friend. And also my enemy.
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Definitely dependent on your point of view. Sometimes I can remember the good stuff sometimes it’s only the bad
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Love this poem Meg. I think it’s relatable for many people. The end stanza is my favourite. I like how she knows she was used and always forgave him; however, she chooses to remember only the good memories now and forget the bad. I guess enough time has passed by?
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Thanks, Mandi. Oh yes plenty of time… I was digging deep for this one!
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Really love this!
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Thanks, Lennon!
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There are so many things in life I don’t understand you seem to. I need you insights.
This is one of those things.
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Really? I often feel completely clueless…
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OK, I’ll quit being snarky (as I have been on your other posts tonight.) You have good insight into people and situations and I depend on you to help me navigate life. On some level you know that already, but on a conscious level you probably dismiss it. It’s true.
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You have no idea how good it feels to hear that from you. I’m full of self doubt right now.
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