Erased By The Salty Air

I saw myself through the distant eye

barefoot on the ocean sand,

running after drifting leaves

torn out of an unread diary.

I catch them and am still a while,

staring at the blank sheet in my hand.

It wasn’t blank when I touched it first.

was filled with spidery scribbles.

Filled with a thousand thoughts unsaid.

Failed utterances, stopped at the lips.

Blank now.

As blank as the stare I graced it with.

I saw myself through the distant eye

while the ocean froth turned white.

I wrote this quite some time ago, but it fits what I’m feeling now. I used to keep a journal, and wrote every single random thought that flooded my mind. Somehow, reading old journals makes me all melancholic. I am the kind of person who doesn’t believe in holding on to the past, hanging on is a big hindrance to enjoying what’s to come in life.

And the point where I am at the moment, there is much that I need to let go of.

So this September I’m going to search for myself among the broken memories of the days gone by. I’ll re-invent myself. I really don’t know how, but it is something that just has to be done. Wish me luck.

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5 thoughts on “Erased By The Salty Air

  1. Tazeen says:

    Old things – especially diaries – make me feel melancholic too. Coincidentally, I was just looking my old poetry journal (the one filled with crappy, sentimental stuff I wrote as an adolescent) and I started to feel a bit depressed so I closed it.

    I can’t throw away my old things because I’m pretty attached to them but with time, I stop looking at them and eventually, things seem good to me.

  2. abichica says:

    lovely poem.. its different from what i was expecting and that’s a very good thing..:-)

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