“What is it in us that lives in the past and longs for the future, or lives in the future and longs for the past? And what does it matter when light enters the room where a child sleeps and the waking mother, opening her eyes, wishes more than anything to be unwakened by what she cannot name?”

—Mark Strand, from “No Words Can Describe It

The Past.

broken hearts don’t heal
broken strings don’t mend
the pain was not only in the past
its phantom still lingers around

                                                     reminding us of our weaknesses,
                                                     making us weak in the knees
                                                     fragile marrow bones
                                                     they crack easily
      

 the past has seen it all
 watched us fall, tried to mold us in,
 black and blues underneath our skins
 wounds not visible to strangers eyes

                                                   but the past knows where they lie
                                                   it comes back raging like a storm
                                                   knocks us to the ground out of breath
                                                   and then pours acid on our skins

we fear, so we hide behind,
put up our guards and lie
wear a mask till the future 
is sure, no hard edges  

                                                 to scar our skins.
                                                 we forget, we start fearing the sun
                                                 even the darkness, with its scary side
                                                 and even when happiness stands before us, we think it’s just the past
in disguise. 
 

“If you are depressed you are living in the past. If you are anxious you are living in the future. If you are at peace you are living in the present.”

lao tzu

“And just like that, it was over. All those laughs, tears and awkward moments were nothing but memories, which will slowly fade away from each of our minds. Those stories will be forgotten and the jokes will not make us laugh, anymore. Everything about you that made me smile, will be left worthless. For some time, I will think about you and cry, but then even you will fade away from my memory. I will remember the first time I had fallen in love, but I won't remember with whom. Your name will be like any other, and our hearts will heal. We might walk past on the street but not recognize each other. The happiness we once felt would be desolated. I might die, and you will never know. It's just, these thoughts...they leave me numb. How it hurts when you finally realize; the present will become the past.”

—PretentiousPoet
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