memory

I remember but no longer

understand the hand that

quaked and quivered, as

I shook and shivered, chalky

poison in my grasp.

 

I remember the idea that in

moments I would cease to be me,

but a memory; the phantom

in the bathroom; the empty

seat at the dinner table.

 

I remember but cannot recreate

the thought that grew and

festered, took hold and grew roots;

that sapped and sucked my

self worth and love.

 

I remember and can’t forget

the emptiness that drove me

to the brink of deletion; the thought that

I was a nothing in a world of everything,

the noise that ruined your

favourite song.

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