Why am I being forgetful?
Is it because of my age?
Maybe because of many things happening right now?
Or Is it possible I am just forcing myself
Not to remember my responsibilities, my hideous past,
And shameful mistakes?
What if  I’m only trying to run
From the burden I’m carrying for their own sake?
How I wish I could be forgetful!

It is irritating beyond belief
That you have absolutely no control
Over what you can remember
And what you can forget
Especially if you are autistic
I want to remember so many things
Essential tasks, passwords, birthdays
I want to forget so many things
People, mistakes, failures
However, Fate works in mysterious ways
Most of the time, it so happens
That you forget what you want to remember
And remember what you want to forget
In the past, I have been guilty
Of losing a number of things
Calculators, earphones, pen drives
I have been equally guilty
Of forgetting as many things
Essential tasks, passwords, important dates
However, over the last few years
I have made some progress
I am much less forgetful
Than I used to be
Because I make notes in my diary
And set up reminders on my phone
However, as mentioned before
Fate works in mysterious ways
Especially if you are autistic
Just as I thought
That I had established some control
Over what I can remember
I have started forgetting again
And this time, there is no turning back

Give it a read.
We forget more often than we realize we do.

https://www.breathandbleed.com/2020/07/a-forgetful-civilization.html

I'm forgetting.

Forgetting on sight.

Forgetting every night.

Something that was supposed to be important...

Is it really that important?



I'm worried that I'm sick,

Mentally, physically; what's my tick?



I'm afraid of ticks.



Forgetting the dark and finding the light.

But it's getting too bright.

My sight is it's own illusionist...

Pulling tricks to show me I'm losing it.



Threatening my anxiety and removing comfort.

Thoughts running up to the clouds and they don't come back down.



But when they do, it's all at once...



In fact, it's not good and pretty;

It's quite harsh and ugly.

It is decidedly so, it no longer bugs me...

She was like a storm
               with no rain...

Just a tornado of destructive vocabulary.


Destroying every excuse
                               that I ever gave.

I was never a flood, never a river
               of ill equipped reasons.

Sometimes I just slipped on my
              own excuses.

I was the goldfish in her bowl
             of life..

And I had the memory of,
                yes darling ill do that.

But I shut the door and her wind
       became a breeze that never

dried in my thoughts..

My memory was a goldfish
        out of water only interested

In breathing.

But no matter what,she'll never
rain down.she'll just dry me off
         and sometime I remember,

and kisses are rained down instead
      of huricane vocabulary..