where do thoughts go when they are forgotten?

i find mine weeks later,
scribbled on old show fliers
and scattered around the living room
after nights spent smoking 'til i'm spent,
written on walls, bed posts, bookshelves
in sharpie and black pen while i lay
in bed and lament over loss and being lost,
hidden on crumpled receipts from
store visits where i've spent what i don't have,
that are then shoved into the dark depths
of purses i've thrown into closet corners
only to be found when digging for
something to wear just before laundry day

often times i go to let the words
plummet to the page and i feel stuck,
then i picture the pieces of my past
scattered all around my apartment,
if only i'd keep these lost chunks of my
mind in neat little piles so that when
the blocks inevitably come i've got
miles of material to work with

unfortunately i've got a knack for
foresight in less ways than i'm willing to
admit, so here i sit, wishing for
my thoughts that have wandered away