memories flickering, fading,
    endless ocean waiting, wading,
closest kin and our best lived days,
    lost now; in this minds murky maze

love-shared moments felt together,
    all drift away; with no tether,
currents carry away from shore,
    landless horizon forever more

pitiful buoy thrown overboard,
    to accept presents false reward,
siren-like; drag you down with me,
    engulfing all; this deep, blue sea

I don't hold any memories
Nothing that tells me what I like
Or that tells me what I was like

For all I know
The only place I do know
Is this bed of white sheets
Where I wake up each day
Every day these past two weeks
And the only person I know
Is that lady in white
Greeting me every morning with a smile
If nothing else, this sight
Has found its place in my mind

She showed me someone
Someone who claims to know me
Someone who went to school with me
I do not know him though

His 'me' resembled a butterfly
Flitting between the flowers in a garden
Giving each the attention deserved
Gracefully, without any reserve.

An image that felt quite foreign
To this husk that remains at present

Another day,
She showed me someone
Someone who claims to know me
Someone who shared my blood
I do not know her though

Her 'me' seemed like a wise cat
Knowing when to pick a fight
Knowing when to restrain its bite
Knowing how far of an arm's length
To keep itself away
From being too involved or too little
In any event of concern around it

I should learn from such a cat,
But I find it hard to believe I was that.

Yet another day,
She showed me someone
Someone who claims to know me
Someone who claims to love me
And also claims to love me as I am
I do not know her though.

Her 'me' painted a picture of a vase
Holding tulips and daisies,
Broken to bits yet held together
By some substance unfamiliar.

I can't seem to comprehend
How this vase stands on end
'Love,' she says, but it's only
One of many four lettered words
That fill the same space as 'vase'

As my days went by,
Meeting people who knew 'me'
A choice needed to be made.
Which one of the 'me's is me,
And which one shall continue being me?

The shell I am doesn't remember
Holding a butterfly, a cat or a vase
The person I am now
Doesn't owe any of them a place

Yet I wonder
Would it be wrong of me
If I chose one while forsaking the rest?

It's always a little easier
To trace over the lines already drawn
By someone who knew better

Should I be giving up
A chance at a clean slate?
A chance to let myself
Be free like a bird not caged
A chance to take a shape
Any 'me' has yet to take

I wouldn't know better
After all, the only place I know
Is this bed of white
And the only person I know
Is that lady in white

I expel smoke into the atmosphere
and think of all my ghosts this year.
I fumble the deck in search of fives
but still find the Jester half alive.
I stumble through old alleys
we used to go to, in search of songs.
But I do nothing right but fill valleys
with all of the right wrongs.
I absorb oaked *** into my veins
and felt hot tears in the rain.
All those moments — lost in time
the second you were no longer mine.

Memories plant the ability to look backwards on one’s reality
So that they may change
And realize what was worth the pain
And what was only a mistake.

Although wishing for amnesia
Makes for a painful breakup song
I doubt anyone would truly
Wish for something so cruel.

Self awareness revoked
Just sitting in a chair
Not even conscious
While staring at whatever lies right in front

Not understanding why people hug you
And why they're crying
Not understanding what
Crying even is

As the mumbles
Incomprehensible
Escape from chapped lips
And dire eyes

I wonder if you’d even know of your end.

You asked me what I wanted from you?

I want you
to make me forget.
Make me forget
Who I am
What planet I’m on
What year it is

Erase my mind
Of every memory
Of every person
Good and bad from existence
And if I should remember
Make me forget it all again

Everything
Except for two things

Your name
And your love

The pendulum is a bull shark.
The hour of the savior is a pregnant bride's swan dive into the water.
The mighty mile is a figure 8 in the scoot of
non slop socks across the bare linoleum.
Blood and bright are the redness of the blanket.
divine terror at one hart beat per hour.
Finger nails green and black against a back drop
of the brightest, bluest eyes you've ever seen;
deep pools of liquid light that will shine when least expected.
And the obligation isn't one at all,
for when i breath in,
you breath out.
And when I gave consent 1000 years ago times 10-
you performed the exorcism under the shroud of my amnesia
and the spotted light from a crystal disco ball.
Shards of light moved upon the face of all the space between the stars.
My heart was in the highlands but now its in your hands.