My memories of you
of us
of our life
Is like a cancer
My memories are me
parts of me
That grow
destroy
consume
the rest of me.
These memories
these tumors
start in the middle of my own memories
my own happiness
my own strength
and one small connection
synapse
sends the memories
the cells
rushing forward.
And when I think I might be able to stop them
fight them
forget them
it is too late, and my body has already been taken.
And thus, my memories, which are made of me,
destroy the rest of me, which is also made of me.
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 6:47 AM UTC
My memories of you
of us
of our life
Is like a cancer
My memories are me
parts of me
That grow
destroy
consume
the rest of me.
These memories
these tumors
start in the middle of my own memories
my own happiness
my own strength
and one small connection
synapse
sends the memories
the cells
rushing forward.
And when I think I might be able to stop them
fight them
forget them
it is too late, and my body has already been taken.
And thus, my memories, which are made of me,
destroy the rest of me, which is also made of me.
Inspired partly by John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
Request permission to use this poem