(no subject)
a point sometimes happens
when one can no longer remember
and especially for me
this was the case
you see
i can't really remember
anything
well not the things that count
for most
.
yes i can remember
when hot rollers
for my mother's hair
were instruments,
toys, symbols
to fuel my imagination
till this day you still
can see a cracked and yellowed
picture as proof
yes i can remember
when a stick
found in the sand
was a bone
the earthly remains
of a creature who's history
had begun long before
i was ever a thought
yes i can remember
when the wind in my face
was as strong
as how fast
my feet could
pedal
yes i can remember
when i was held
high
high upon shoulders
that were much stronger
than mine
.
during some point
of course i don't remember when
but i know it
will or has happened
that
i stopped remembering
by choice or
not
of course i can't
remember that
so now my memories
are the ones that i sew
upon fabric
exotic fabric
of course
perhaps in a dismal yet safe
cyan
back and forth
stitching tales
for all i know it
just may be the reality
and why
why is it that a person
would do this
the most obvious answer
would be to pique the interest
of others
certainly that would be the
most obvious
but then of course
i can't remember if it actually
was ever to be that obvious
i surely would hope not
no
i think more so
it was to satisfy myself
to entertain as well as tickle
the only voice that ever
truly spoke to me
it probably spoke the loudest
it's probably the best interest
of all involved
real or otherwise
that i stitch and stitch
together false
memories
for it only takes one flaw
to kill a man
to realize
he is only that
of course
that is
if he can only remember
to remember
:4: