This is the kind of forgetting that hurts the most

This is the kind of forgetting

that hurts the most.

.

Let silence cut you open

Let the lush memories extend their

microscopic claws, their fingernails

perfectly horrid, slicing at your chest,

wanting out, wanting to be free.

.

Is there

a monster inside of you? Then

why do you feel so monstrous? So

relentlessly bloody, so stained by

your catastrophic past, so unhuman.

.

If we are who we are because

of our past then you are

probably a monster after all

but perhaps we’re all monsters

because when life gushes forth,

a crimson waterfall

splashing into life, gushes forth

from your chest, rips you open:

you have nowhere to hide, except

in the dark. And aren’t we all,

more or less, hiding in the dark?

 

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One comment

  1. slpmartin · February 11, 2012

    How well you express the power of ‘silence’.

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