Pain

“The worst part of holding memories is not the pain. 

It's the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared.” 

Lois Lowry, The Giver

Pain

You are the only pain
left in me.

Pain,
that makes me cry out loud
at odd hours of late winter nights.
Pain,
as hard as it was,
when you left.
Pain,
that tried too hard to teach me
how to stop loving anyone
as much as life itself;
poor thing, it could never
really do it.

You are the only memory 
left in me,
of pain itself.

You were pain:
when I loved you,
I never had enough for others.
I gave it all to you.
You are pain:
the moments you gave me
to think and rethink about,
they burn inside my head,
killing me bit by bit.
You will remain pain:
your dark smile is 
printed on my bare mind,
too deep to get faded.

I pity my weak heart
which tries to make me believe
you are still mine.
But, the truth is too big to hide.
You don't belong with me;
neither your heart,
nor your thoughts:
absolute nothing.

I tell myself,
I am done with you.
Yes, I am.
But, just a little of that pain
remains for ever.
Your killing smile,
the only pain you have left, 
in me.

No more failures.
No more betrayals.
Just pain, pain and pain
will do,
as I vanish away slowly,
just like another leaf of Autumn.