For Them, or Us?

Sometimes,

I wish that I, or someone invented a machine.

A machine to wipe off memories.

So I could take away all that was hurtful,

And leave the happy ones instead.

Because from time to time,

These memories come back and haunt me.

Taunting me with their presence.

Making me regret all that I've done,

And all that I've been.

I'd wish for a chance to turn back time,

And do it over.

Those nights when I lay awake, not sleeping,

Are the very worst.

These memories come back full force,

Jeering at me over all the mistakes I've made in my short life.

"Stop!" I'd scream in agony. "Go away! Leave me alone!"

They never do.

Aren't I human?

Can't I make mistakes too?

I thought we learned from our mistakes, and grew from them.

Isn't that how it's supposed to be?

How the hell am I supposed to know what was right and wrong,

What worked and didn't, if I never knew what choice to make?

Why does everyone expect everyone else to do the right thing, and make the right choices?

What's wrong with being wrong?

Can't we learn from that?

Do we live for the expectations of others,

Or for our own?