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I remember everything: a curse of recollection.

Ingrained like sand grains
in my Cerebellum’s crevassed crevices.

Though, unfortunately,
without a holiday to a dark pit.

Where I can finally find some peace.

I don’t even try to conjure the memories.

They just appear.

A window,
screening glassy bygone events
that scream smashed panes.

The shards cut me
when I try to hold them in.

Scars on my body show my attempts
at subduing the wreckages.

I used to worry that not forgetting
would lead me to become permanently insane:
luckily for me it was only temporary.

But, I still yearn
to wash my brain at 90 degrees
in that spinning machine.

Ridding me
of the inky see-through stains
where the world had it’s way with me.

Nowadays,
I just revel in my survival:
the overriding evocation
that vanquishes all others.

A sword I drew
from my innermost scabbard
that became the foundation
of mettle within me.

My sharp renewal.

My thrusting lifeforce.

Always at my side.

Always coursing through me.

Like seppuku in reverse.

My imperfect jagged point that I chose.

I struck to be it and stuck to being..

..me

© poormansdreams

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