Y/N's mind:
-----------------------------------------------------------
So........This is going to be sad then cute! its a poem.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Painful and happy memories, of a past not able to be forgotten. Each engraving a mark into the soul, deep impressions of what once was thought right and now is wrong. Each day going past, remembering all the evils of the day but not being able to remember all of the good memories twisted and shaped as each day grows into the next.
Fury and passion growing together side-by-side into an ever growing and quick fire, burning it's impression into the farthest memories in the mind. Unable to be extinguished, a fire as hot and dangerous as the sun itself. Wanting and needing but never asking desperately searching for something to quench the growing thirst for new feelings and sensations not allowed by the mind. The heart and the mind, each fighting for control.
In its path destroying loving and joyous memories leaving only the ever lasting destructive imprints of the past. Not letting go in an obsessive hold wanting to, but not being able.
To forget would be a gift. A gift of freedom from the past. The past that had been forgotten but chained to my heart.
Pain, hurt, and sadness, all but sweet pities to a pathetic mind. So much hurt, only tears stream my eyes. Anger comes to mind, yet the memories of happiness can also cause grief. The memories of happiness and love now taken away made void by the pain of that time so close to beginning but not close enough where, now, only I can pittie myself.
Obsessing over the past. A past almost forgotten. A past wanted to be forgotten . All of these emotions mixed together only to be used to skate.
Skating is an escape for many.
Skating was my escape.
Skating was my love
But now the love that I showed for skating is gone. Left behind by fear of the past.
A tiny light of Hope shines through. The kind of light of hope that urges me to get back up. The sweet light that shines through the darkest days. Showing me that I'm OK.
Victor is my hope. The hope that I love. He showed me things I never thought I could do, should the other side of me that I didn't know about. He showed me love, and cared for me. He did things no one else did. He knew me before I knew myself.
Victor is my escape.
_____________________________________
Written by: Doris Czaszar, and Luna
So I wanted to pay a tribute to my mother Doris Czaszar who died in 2010. I found some of her poems that were beautiful but not all of them were put together. Her poem was named Hope. Doris was a funny and kind woman. She loved to take care of people. She showed kindness to strangers. She loved her work: A nurse.
~Luna
Love you all. Hope you liked it. ❤️ ♥️ 💜