The memories

All I am left with are fleeting memories of what was The feeling of what it was like to be in your presence is fading All you left me with is the feeling of what was The feeling of slowly losing myself Bits of me seeping out through my withered body Through the holes of doubt and anguish you left for me Not even my essence, or presence, is tethered here My soul is lost and looks for comfort in the clouds of confusion Standing still but always moving The feeling of longing for something I cannot remember The feeling of not knowing who I was The feeling of not knowing who I am My character always questioned and degraded My thoughts always strung out before me and beat down My feelings ripped out while attached to the strings of my heart The only things left in my decaying carcass are the sparks of fear, doubt, and anger that were planted in me And from those trees of unknown sorrow come Leaving dark shadows cast upon those who walk under it Reminding them of who has fallen Maybe not who, but what was released as the body slowly decayed, as people stepped over it Kicking it and throwing it to the side Now the seed is forever planted The memories of the good no longer remain As the branches grow through the eye sockets, lifting the veins out and piercing the rib cage Blood splutters out But not even in this horrendous moment does the memory of pain exist Not even then do I know what to feel Just betrayal and sadness follow Longing of wanting to know why