Please stop kidnapping me.
I accept suffering and I know
all about the past without being
transported there abruptly like
a child left alone in a shopping mall.
Dear memory, my captor, I’m sorry
if life has done things to you that
cannot be erased so easily, but
life will do that and if I want to think
I will think in my own time.
I don’t need to see your slideshows, no
PowerPoints or home videos because
I was there, we went through these things
together, so rest now because
it’s over.
I know suffering was never
in vain, so, dear brain,
stop teaching me lessons I’ve
already heard.
I know you have your reasons
and I won’t ask why, but
please stop giving me flashbacks,
I’m afraid you’ll make me cry.
