Memories Best Forgotten

She remembers, even as she tries to forget.

Her sense of worthlessness causing a misery

that not even physical pain can dispel.

It begins, as so many of them do, with sensory reminders.

Any one having the ability to bring her back to that exact moment in her life.

The scent of garbage, the metallic smell of blood.

Remembrances of pain so strong that she can still feel it down to her bones.

A feeling of fear that boarders on terror.

Fears of the past bringing her person to a shortness of breath.

The slamming of a door causing her body to shake.

Her every word is measured against the possible repercussions.

She can no longer tell the difference between a lie and the truth,

as she's been surrounded by lies for so long.

The ones she tells herself, and the ones that she is forced to tell to others.

The knowledge that nothing she does will stop this from happening,

and anything she says will fall on so many deaf ears.

She hides her tears, her pain, her fear,

because she's come to realize that no one really cares.

No one cares, and no one believes her when she cries for help,

so ultimately, she has stopped asking.

The naive hope that someone would save her,

and the bleakness of knowing that no one will.

The childish curiosity of wondering if she will continue to wake

to the recurring nightmare she knows as her reality.

Or if this is the time that she will sink into darkness for the last time.

The uncertainty of what she wants to happen.

Does she want to give in, to stay in the darkness

where pain and fear and hunger no longer have her in their grasp?

Or does she continue to wake up to an uncertain future,

with the knowledge that she will most likely

end up in this familiar darkness again.