No, I never stay long
but you'll always know where I've been.
You'll hear my favorite song
and feel my presence within.
I've been so many new places,
an extensive list of things to do-
always leaving my traces,
Maybe one day you'll stand in my point of view.
Clover patches spawn on the outside
whenever I show up anew.
Do they remind you of times
when I've lied,
or all the silly dreams I confided in you?
I always seem to leave my mark,
flecks of green where they ought not be.
Bright neons light up the dark,
recentering some focus back to me.
Or maybe it's more of a haunting-
to be reminded of my soul,
to always be found is so daunting
when vanishing fully has been my goal.
What if I don’t want to be remembered?
I want to fade away in the void.
All evidence lost in the embers,
my sounds fading into background noise.
It’s not really me they hold close,
just a version that once was truth-
a humorously passionate nostalgic dose,
forgetting how I’m so uncouth.
I don’t want to be a good memory,
for those I’m trying to forget,
a snippet when I was the remedy
until I only made them upset.
Now I live in signs,
subtly in dreams,
even déjà vu at times-
things aren’t always as they seem.
If I am to be unforgettable,
if I must cross your mind,
I hope the thought is regrettable,
and slowly eats at you for a period of time.
To haunt is to be haunted,
and tortured I have been-
false futures, I’ve been taunted,
clearing caches within.
Never once have I destroyed a
pathway completely,
but this one must come down.
I’m drunk and rambling quite indiscreetly,
and your memory makes me frown.
I hope the thought of me spoils your day,
stirred up from a simple coffee -
looped in remembrance like
cursed decay,
and I the leading zombie.
Aug 12, 2025
Aug 12, 2025 at 11:17 AM UTC
No, I never stay long
but you'll always know where I've been.
You'll hear my favorite song
and feel my presence within.
I've been so many new places,
an extensive list of things to do-
always leaving my traces,
Maybe one day you'll stand in my point of view.
Clover patches spawn on the outside
whenever I show up anew.
Do they remind you of times
when I've lied,
or all the silly dreams I confided in you?
I always seem to leave my mark,
flecks of green where they ought not be.
Bright neons light up the dark,
recentering some focus back to me.
Or maybe it's more of a haunting-
to be reminded of my soul,
to always be found is so daunting
when vanishing fully has been my goal.
What if I don’t want to be remembered?
I want to fade away in the void.
All evidence lost in the embers,
my sounds fading into background noise.
It’s not really me they hold close,
just a version that once was truth-
a humorously passionate nostalgic dose,
forgetting how I’m so uncouth.
I don’t want to be a good memory,
for those I’m trying to forget,
a snippet when I was the remedy
until I only made them upset.
Now I live in signs,
subtly in dreams,
even déjà vu at times-
things aren’t always as they seem.
If I am to be unforgettable,
if I must cross your mind,
I hope the thought is regrettable,
and slowly eats at you for a period of time.
To haunt is to be haunted,
and tortured I have been-
false futures, I’ve been taunted,
clearing caches within.
Never once have I destroyed a
pathway completely,
but this one must come down.
I’m drunk and rambling quite indiscreetly,
and your memory makes me frown.
I hope the thought of me spoils your day,
stirred up from a simple coffee -
looped in remembrance like
cursed decay,
and I the leading zombie.
Made into someone's ghost-
What a trophy for the hurt
Vindictive yet so vulnerable,
A blessing and a curse.
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