Blind

I may be a slacker with my blog sometimes. But I write. I write every day. I've talked about it before. When I first started my blog way back in 2005, I did a post HERE talking about the journals I had at that particular time.
Now I have the following:

A "I want to write a novel one day" Journal: This is where I write thoughts about my future novel. I scribble down character profiles, possible conversations, the occasional rambling chapter, details on place and time and whatever else pops into my head.

My Daily Journal: I write details here about my day. General thing. The weather. Projects I'm working on. How things are at work/home. Achievements/Stories/Silly things about the girls.

My Poetry Journal: I constantly write poetry. It may be a verse or a line. It may be waking in the middle of the night to a complete poem in my head and I have to scribble it down in a hurry so I won't forget it. It's dark and nostalgic, mostly. It gets those thoughts out. Helps me to move past it.

Yesterday as I was going through some old scribbles I came across an entry entitled "Blind", a poem. I've decided to share because it was a good reminder for me. I reminisce so often. I think and rethink and overthink. I guess I've always done it.

The entry has no date and I have no memory of writing it, so I know it's not recent. But I decided it was a good one to share.

Blind
Did he love me then?
Does he love me still?
Across the sands of time
And in between.
On summers eve,
so long ago?
When sun upon my hair
could make him smile,
reflections in those eyes
gold flecks on blue.
And I so lost
within the depths.
Remember how that
hand upon my face
could melt the world,
And soon forgot
the tears I cried
speaking his name.

And then a note at the bottom of my little poem:
"To anyone who'e ever got caught up in the fantasy world of "what if" because you had your blinders on and chose only to recall the good stuff instead of facing the harsh reality of true remembrance."

This is for you...

-Myrna