July 15, 2017
Athazagoraphobia: The fear of forgetting , being forgotten or ignored, or being replaced

That word explains one of my greatest fears
The one that constantly makes me burst into tears
Maybe it’s just me and my habit of overthinking
Overthinking…
The only thing I do
It’s what makes me split into two
Because the other side of me feels that there’s more being offered to me from life
But the other wants to drag me down and isolate myself from others because I felt like I’m living a lie
My fear is eating me slowly, piece by piece as it is not a race
Being forgotten like the past that everyone wants to erase
Being ignored like the plants that want to grow but couldn’t be showered with love
Being neglected like the old toys that kids shove into a corner, because the new ones are the only one that they speak of
I have people around me that feel like they are doing their best for me
But I’m selfish and I want more because my boarders are harder to knock down than just finding something like a key
The borders that were built up so strong filled up insecurities, disappointments, and fears
Funny, I already feel my future will just be overflowed with a couple of beers
Maybe light a few cigarettes on cold nights
And take a risk of sitting on high heights
Because within these walls that I build, I feel that the only two people left are the Devil and I
Telling me that it’s time to go and die
That I can’t be here no longer
Time is up and all will not be any better
I give him no reply…
Not because I am shy
But because I have killed my inner self to start anew at least three times already
I’m here, still alive today
Even if I constantly feel the fear of being ignored, it’s okay
There will always be a bay
Filled with people that have no walls
Where I can feel a sense of belong, loved, cared and with them I can stand tall
Although the fear always kicks in to my stomach, my face, my soul, and mind
I’ll be on my grind
Because that other part of me is still fighting and believes there’s so much more
I’ll then start myself for being the reason that I will fight for
I’ll go against my demon and start a war
As I have stood and roared
Because I’m sick of the walls that restrict not only me, but the people who genuinely love me for who I am
That fear that can easily think that it could conquer me, is wrong because I am no simple lamb
Once I have finished my battle
I will then go around and make my words rattle
Hoping that I will one day be able to help others
So I can help bring more colours
Into the lives of many, by starting with me sharing my own story
I want myself and others to not worry
But I don’t want to get ahead of myself as I still have a long way to go
I still need to spiritually and mentally grow and know
That as of now, I lift my chin up and smile
It’s of time that I try to change my lifestyle
So here I go again…
May my happiness contain with lovely and fond memories that will always make me feel like I have something to gain

once we were close.
once our heads would rest on
each other's as we laughed
and you would absentmindedly
reach out and push my hair out
of my eyes.

we would sit on the floor and I
would hug my legs to my chest and
you would absentmindedly drape
your arm over my knees and I
would cross my ankles over yours
and our fingers would lock
like children's, in a fairy tale.

we had a fairytale friendship.

you used to believe in fairies.

every once in a while you would
look me in the eye and I could tell
by the sparkle of depth, the richness of
brown, that you were going to say
something serious
'I'm glad we met
me too, friend. I'm glad I met you, too.
mm. what if I had never said that.
you'd regret it.
that's why I'm glad you're you
because I wouldn't have.
but I wanted to.
repeating after you
might not have been enough.

but every once in a while even you
would surprise me and you would
glance me over and hug me close
I'm glad you exist
I'm glad you exist too,
I'm glad for you.
like a child in a fairytale
stuttering over words, fumbling,
blind kitten

echoing you

with the hope
that you will hear the echo
in everything you say
so that when I am
forgotten you can catch
my voice on the breeze,
the echo, and you can remember
to pull down our dusty
fairytale storybook
from the shelf.

forgetting is the worst part

After you left it lasts for a week
those pleaded and weep
I've done everything to keep
but still you left and now I am weak.


No text, no call
no you after all
I think you've forgotten me I don't understand
I've got this fear now that I cannot stand

I am no longer open for companions,
I don't even take everyone's opinions
I don't talk I thought doubtly
I think they'll just reject me.

I don't even talk to who's not committed
Cause I have this fear now of being rejected
I am now sealed with this fear
Be forgotten by a person eventhough I love for real.

Walking down a hallway, I hear my name. No windows or doors, no distinction between floor and ceiling.
But my name.
Etched in the walls in every medium you could imagine: from pencil to pastel to acrylic to crayon. My name. All around me on these sullen walls, this repeated name over and over, all blue. So close in hue you almost couldn't see them. But you could, and as you read them they mocked you. As if they were saying,
'Why are you here..?'
The walls are closing in, this space is just too small. I don't know where to run, it's endless in every direction. I close my eyes and fall. In past dreams if you fall, you wake up before you meet the ground.  
I didn't wake up.
The pain comes immediately, skid marks down my legs and blood falling out the scrapes. Head pounding, shoulder throbbing, running down the street. I fell into this city and I'm looking for you. I know you're here because you're in love with this place. I know you're here because you're you. I know you're here because I know you.
I run.
My vision gets blurry and this city starts to spin. Pass one street and the next, and the next, and the next.. Finally a familiar place, I feel the rush of knowing you're near. I'm getting closer. You haven't talked to me in weeks, I haven't seen you in months, I feel something running down my face. Memories that hurt more than the injury. I see that house and those cars in the yard, run up the walk and open the door. I don't even make it past the threshold as my face hits the floor. Injuries from the fall finally became critical.
I wake up and I see a ceiling. A pale sickly white, the walls are the same color. Then the pain starts to come. Slow hurt in my face from falling and falling again, my arm throbs in a cast, and I look to my right to see a blood bag along with an IV. The blood makes me nauseous and I hear a noise to my left, a person. Someone gets up and holds my hand, looks at me with shining eyes and tear streaked cheeks. I wipe one away with my casted arm, sending shooting pain into my spine. This persons appearance is unfamiliar, but they show me love like I've never seen or experienced before, the look in their eyes tells me I'm everything to them. I look at those eyes, and memories come to surface. Laughter, comfort, love, hurt, reconciliation, happiness. There's pain in my back and I involuntarily flinch, breathing and hoping for the pain to go away. It gets worse as my lungs start to hurt, my heart beats faster as I realize I'm scared. I look back up to find you still won't take your eyes off mine, and I finally figure it out. It's you. You run out in search of a nurse before I can open my mouth, and as my eyes close darkness takes over and pulls me under.
When I woke up alone I was the one with the tear stained cheeks.

The fear of being forgotten
is as foul as it is true

But worse still
is the thrill
you feel when you're remembered

And we will feel sorry for ourselves because our bodies do not know where to go now,
We are just ghosts without a set of bones to haunt,
And when the sirens sound and everyone is boarding the emergency boats, we will not move,
And we will sink with the ship,
And we will float to the bottom of everything

Weren’t we so beautiful then, when our eyes could burn holes into the sun,
When our tears could grow gardens,
And weren’t we so indifferent to sadness then,
I can still see the look on your father’s face, a decade ago, when he was holding you in that photograph,
Everything around you was like a wildfire,
And I would still welcome the burns with open arms because I know heartbreak gives way to success regardless, I just wish success meant a way to not be forgotten

We are so busy mending our brokenness that we forget to love one another,
And we are guilty by association to the circumstances we create for ourselves,
Strangers,
I never thought I’d feel this much for a stranger,
I never thought that we’d be strangers,
I’m just glad we had plenty of time to eat our hearts out

And I’m sure there are wine bottles in my kitchen for every letter in your name and I am sure that I could drink all of them and still remember your name,
And I will bury your memories inside of someone else and I am sure they will be just like you

How long will it take,
for you to notice?
How long will it take,
for you to find me?

I am sitting in a box,
with a pretty red ribbon,
waiting for you.
But you don't even say hello.

I want you to find me,
because I will never have the courage,
to find you.
Please, find me.

I sit in a corner,
all on my own.
I think of you,
until I realize.

I realize that I deserve recognition.
I deserve gratitude.
I'm not being self-centered,
and I'm not being rude,
all I'm saying,
is that I want you.

And I wish,
that you would want me,
too.

I have always feared,
that I would die,
alone.

Lately…I’ve been practicing sleeping.
I’ve had to take pills to make the thoughts in my head shut off,
Slow down,
Stop,
Long enough to catch some rest.

Now, one of the questions you may be pondering is: why?
Chances are, you know as much as me.
Though I do have a theory at this moment in time…
Maybe it’s because I have worries and fears,
Ones that aren’t always entirely mine.

For instance, my selachophobia can keep me up
All into the wee hours of the night.
A fear of sharks for those of you wondering
And no, I have NO idea as to the origin of this phobia,
Maybe you might...

But can you blame me, really?
Have you seen those things?!
They just aren’t right;

Heads shaped like torpedoes,
Black eyes that roll into the back of their heads,
Serrated sets of teeth like razor blades,
And you wonder why I can’t get to bed?!

It's been proven that some types of sharks
are so big that if they didn't live in the water
they'd be crushed by their own weight on land
Like whales left beached and dying on the hot, dry sand

Basically, anything that swims, floats or crawls in the deep,
THOSE are the creatures
that make me lose sleep!

Then, there are chalkboards,
Before you ask, no, they do not strike fear into my heart
I simply do not like to be near them
And the sound of peoples nails on them – no, no
...I refuse to even start

Then...there's this mouthful: Athazagoraphobia
Fear of being ignored, forgotten or forgetting.

See, ignored is something no one likes to be,
and forgetting is something I think everyone worries about
but being forgotten, left out or remaining unseen
Well, I can't imagine a worse destiny

But believe me,
I know where this phobia stems from.
It's my uncertainty of the future
Graduation's just one year to come...

I don't where I'll be going
I don't know if I'm going to stay
All I know for certain is that I'm going to lose contact with
some of them...someday

I worry that when people look back and think of me
That all they're ever going to see
Was girl with skirts and smiles
Bright eyes and wavy hair
they thought looked pretty.

Not a girl with thoughts
brimming from the tip of her tongue
Someone with a fiery determination
and a need to get things done

But, I suppose I'll have to accept
it's going to be just fine either way.
That all we're ever going to get to say,
are sweet nothings in passing
“Hi's” on each other's facebook walls

Nothing that really means anything
But I suppose that's just dandy, all in all.
The thing is though, I'm just not ready
Not ready to let go

To stop seeing them everyday
To no longer have them within arms-length
To hug and talk to and cuddle with
But for now, all I can do is pray

Pray that these good times will last
Make an imprint in my memory and theirs long enough to remain
Long enough to look back on when decades have passed
With absolutely no need to complain

I always want the comfort of knowing they'll be there
the very second I reach out and need them
Have them there on the other end of the line
To soothe me and keep my nerves at bay

But...eventually...I know we'll all be going our separate ways.

So...that's why I've been practicing sleeping
And I know I'm getting there
But the fears?
Well, the fears aren't really going to go anywhere.