Memories: the back and forth trajectories the internal out-of-sync in-sync directories of treasured moments, of pleasantries and the reviled relived accessories of treachery.
My memory is pitted with chasms like Swiss Cheese the phantom dreams of being hit by a car in a winters bite the realities of unconsciousness and brain spasms the fathoms baffles in batches and waves of breaches disfigured features like a frosted window caked in creatures burrowed and riddled like a parasite in the spite of night.
By the time id got to hospital id forgotten my own name fortunately I had a gas bill in my pocket which hadn't freed itself while being violently hurled over the red car bonnet and it became the one and only evidence that I even existed even though the A & E nurse insisted and persisted on asking questions: my address, date of birth, blood type, emergency contact - like Id have it tattooed on my body like a scene from Memento amid the voices in crescendo and brain-damage thumping techno.
That was a few years ago, or was it, I couldn't be sure now but some days I forget what I did in the morning so I just have to live for the moment somehow the memories like Swiss Cheese constantly morphing to the piped tune of the cerebral banshee buzzing in my left ear like a perpetual honey bee makes me wonder though;
I am lactose and diary free - the dominant dietary preponderant some modernistic conglomerate causing ultimate lethargy. Does this mean if recollections are like Swiss Cheese I am intolerant to memories?
I use poetry like post-it-note reminders before I forget who I am forever