I forget where I forgot you...
That place is a ghost land,
it's a dreamscape,
it's a netherworld,
where Styx was our path
and death was our guide
for into life we emerged
absent of one another.
When I remember that I don't remember you,
there is a gentle flutter of the heart
or the buoyancy of a smile uplifting the balloons of my cheeks
even the pull of earthly forces
a magnetism that I'm sure slams us into walls
across time and space
when we can't escape the force.
I'm forced to regret my shame.
My heart splits apart where glue,
like melting-hot pizza cheese,
can't protect the seams and my memory is suddenly
seamless.
There you are.
Cradled in a vignette.
It's snowing, and I've fallen over.
My friend cackles next to our Quasimodo snowman.
You fear that I am a basket of eggs
sliding toward the precipice
time counts down
you fade
I smile,
and tomorrow
your haunting is a stormcloud
the past comes raining down upon me...
"Good morning folks, it's 97.8FML; look's like we've got repressed memories. Visibility is low. There's a sharp depression chill sweeping over. The tears won't let up; about 70litres today. Better have good wipers, it's looking like a long weekend. And now, we have a word from our sponsors. Kleenex."
The memory surfaced the same way you found me.
Out of the blue, like an angel: of death or of life, I don't know.
Sleeping is harder than catching butterflies.
When I count the sheep, they have your face.
When I think about you, it's a circus.
It's a mixture of laughter and staring into a wall; the occasionally thrown chair at an invisible lion and the whiplash of my dreadful anger.
It doesn't make sense. I last knew you in the time it takes to grow a forest. And here I am. In a thicket of bedlam.
I used to forget that I'd forgotten you.
Now, I can't remember you're not worth the memory.
Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 2:46 AM UTC
I forget where I forgot you...
That place is a ghost land,
it's a dreamscape,
it's a netherworld,
where Styx was our path
and death was our guide
for into life we emerged
absent of one another.
When I remember that I don't remember you,
there is a gentle flutter of the heart
or the buoyancy of a smile uplifting the balloons of my cheeks
even the pull of earthly forces
a magnetism that I'm sure slams us into walls
across time and space
when we can't escape the force.
I'm forced to regret my shame.
My heart splits apart where glue,
like melting-hot pizza cheese,
can't protect the seams and my memory is suddenly
seamless.
There you are.
Cradled in a vignette.
It's snowing, and I've fallen over.
My friend cackles next to our Quasimodo snowman.
You fear that I am a basket of eggs
sliding toward the precipice
time counts down
you fade
I smile,
and tomorrow
your haunting is a stormcloud
the past comes raining down upon me...
"Good morning folks, it's 97.8FML; look's like we've got repressed memories. Visibility is low. There's a sharp depression chill sweeping over. The tears won't let up; about 70litres today. Better have good wipers, it's looking like a long weekend. And now, we have a word from our sponsors. Kleenex."
The memory surfaced the same way you found me.
Out of the blue, like an angel: of death or of life, I don't know.
Sleeping is harder than catching butterflies.
When I count the sheep, they have your face.
When I think about you, it's a circus.
It's a mixture of laughter and staring into a wall; the occasionally thrown chair at an invisible lion and the whiplash of my dreadful anger.
It doesn't make sense. I last knew you in the time it takes to grow a forest. And here I am. In a thicket of bedlam.
I used to forget that I'd forgotten you.
Now, I can't remember you're not worth the memory.
So, it seems like it takes me a long time to process my emotions.
Maybe over half a year ago, I had this resurgence of feeling for my college sweetheart. It was strange. I've been thinking that I probably never processed the emotions properly. Over the past couple days, the memories came back again and I saw things in a light that I've been afraid to consider for, years. How does that even happen? LOL
Anyway. I was also thinking about the people we forget without even thinking about it. People we couldn't even imagine if our lives depended on it. I became painfully aware of that the other month or so, and now I've been keeping tabs on how I do it and I don't know what to think. I'm just confused. I suppose I care for the wrong reasons. Maybe because I've been forgotten by people that I wish remembered me. Anyway, this poem echoes that and probably many more things as well as the two aforementioned topics.
I hope you've enjoyed this piece :)
DEW
P.S. I've been thinking that writer's block is actually just a secret craving. We have to search our feelings and write about what our heart (if you want to call it "Muse" that's up to you) is trying to say.
Keep that in mind!!!
