What I Don’t Remember

I remember the fire.
I remember the warmth of it near my skin.
The night was cold.
He was with me.

I remember his smile.
I remember his laugh.
The night was dark.
We stood close.

I remember walking.
I remember the path was dark
The dirt was covered with leaves.
He was with me.

I remember the cold ground.
I remember hearing my name.
They pulled me to my feet.
He was not there.

I remember the tears.
I remember the confusion.
I remember nothing at all.
The memories are not there.

I remember the whispers.
I remember their stares.
They look at me, knowing something I don’t.
It was only me. He was not there.


M.L. Flickinger

Aside from writing, Melissa is an advocate for mental health and wellness - fighting against the stigma of mental illness. Focusing on mindfulness, anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder, OCD, eating disorders, ADHD, addiction, PTSD, emotional abuse, domestic violence, trauma, and recovery. She has a slight (okay, huge) obsession with coffee and all things pumpkin.


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