What do I need to remember? Was it important?
It's warm here regardless of the snow
surrounding every cave; stealing life from the crevices.
I'll hold it in my hand and the skin will fall off,
my bones will deteriorate from the time I spend here
waiting. I'll watch, eyes half closed, as the wind carries my pieces.
The fragments of me that are not holding on to this are
too vulnerable to protect me anyway. Then again, which
part of me would give up? They stick to my shoulders
and I feel less burdened, the weight strengthens my legs.
I lost use of those. I started to pull me along.
I walked along side myself to find what I had felt
within me when I found myself walking. What use do I have in fearing
what I can not remember? I recall what I clutch in my hand;
lamentations of the aches in my no longer useful joints. I'll explain
the ill will I had towards my ability. I can't grasp forever.
These hollows trapped the choir I need to remember,
I won't give up here.
