A light in my mind was bright and loud
And a hush fell gently upon the crowd
Like a papal hat I adorned your love
And set my hate free like a white dove
I soar through the air; I rip at the seams
I sleep through the day and awake in my dreams
High above, on top of it all
And watch my life happen as I start to fall
Faster and faster the images come in blurs
But it’s not about what you did or where you were
We grab the reigns we avoid the collision
And sit in a circle and make our decision.
The end has come but I avoid the tape
And start it all over, I’ve made my escape.
At some point I’ll forget.
I’ll forget the pain of the past. I’ll forget the coldness of the tile floor.
Someday the cracks will fill in and leave just reminders of the pain.
I’ll blame the shakes on the cold. I’ll blame the pain on my age.
I’ll forget to worry about my future.
I’ll forget to think of you at all.
At some point I’ll forget the taste of your gun’s barrel. I’ll forget the smell of my own blood.
I won’t even remember the taste of my tears.
Someday, hopefully soon, I will remember how to stay on my feet.
I’ll forget the grasping, tear stained, straining, convulsing fetal position I’m in.
I’ll remember to eat, to drink, to draw breath.
At some point I’ll remember what it’s like not to have my jaw quiver when I try and speak.
Someday, you’ll be nothing more than a memory that I won’t think about.
At some point you’ll be another stranger on the street that I avert my eyes from.
At some point you’ll just be a ghost that haunts my dreams.
At some point I’ll actually talk to another person again. Someday I’ll be able to smile and laugh.
At some point I may even enjoy company, conversation, and even the occasional debate, or good natured joke.
At some point I’ll forget the smell of my hands pressed against my face.
I’ll forget the feeling of my balled fists pressing into my closed swollen eyes.
I’ll remember what it was to feel something other than, well, what I feel right now.
At some point my fists will uncurl and my teeth will not grind.
I’ll remember that under this shell there is still at least half a soul remaining, maybe less than that.
At some point, you’ll forget me. You’ll forget what you did, and what I didn’t do.
And at some point I’ll realize that.
I’ll realize that you moved on, moved away, traded up.
And then I’ll remember the hole, the deep, black, agonizing hole that sucks everything in, the hole that I am busy digging now.
Someday I’ll remember me.
