It’s anger no, it’s frozen grief;
hatred, deep—catharsis
flows in poetry.
Too cruel—to have left
a slit of good memory.
Mars blazes—open wounds,
shattering to vindictive dust.
Letters folded
like curled serpent hair
Why forget
a single Mnemosyne of trauma?
You blessed with amnesia;
someone: remembrance's curse.
Oct 6, 2025
Oct 6, 2025 at 5:27 AM UTC
It’s anger no, it’s frozen grief;
hatred, deep—catharsis
flows in poetry.
Too cruel—to have left
a slit of good memory.
Mars blazes—open wounds,
shattering to vindictive dust.
Letters folded
like curled serpent hair
Why forget
a single Mnemosyne of trauma?
You blessed with amnesia;
someone: remembrance's curse.