What’s Forgotten
(This is REALLY rough)
One by one
Your neighbors,
Your classmates,
Your friends,
Your family,
And the people who never saw you there
Buckle their seat belts
And close the door.
As the oxygen
And cheap light
Suffocates you,
You wander through the question:
is it me, or them that is moving?
--
You have tried to unbutton your chest
Because the skin is too tight
For the monster that beats underneath
You have tried to unclog your throat
Of the small claws that can’t decide which way to go
And You have tried to clean your ears,
Your mouth,
Your brain,
Of the oil that pollutes them
But sometimes, the passion
Isn’t there.
You drink the tea
That weighs you down,
And chew on the things you’ve forgotten.
You turn the volume up,
But it’s just sound
It can only cover your ears
Your mind.
You’re still there
--
People
Walk down the streets,
Weaving their bread crumb trails
Through malls, offices, kitchens, and schools.
So you gnaw at your mind,
Picking away at the flesh,
Chipping and peeling off memories,
Trying to remember when you forgot how to follow the path,
Or how to walk
Or dance.
Everyone you knew
Drives farther and farther away.
You wonder if they’re the only speck in the distance,
Or if you’re one, too.
Then you reach the end of the question
And you look over the edge
Just enough so you can see the answer:
i am sinking.
