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The Memory

Updated: May 7

E’ery now and again

When my noggin’s sick

& its fog‘s most thick

W/ a furrowed brow I stumble

Across a musky ol’ box

Of memories, and intrigued

By these forgotten trinkets

I carry it down from my

Subconscious attic

Like holiday decorations

Dusted off for another season.

FRAGILE is hastily scrawled

Catawampus across its top almost

Spilling over from hippocampus crap.

But I pay no mind: I’m the cat blind

Whom w/ careless claws

Pries the box agape —

W/ it too my heart’s gauze.

My cheeks blush. My soul shivers

& my tears begin to gush

From meek trickles to hungry rivers,

Flooding the Serengeti

Of acrid crocodiles who hiss and rip

Through my dozing mind’s muzzle

Easy as confetti, gasping for a sip

Of what little warmth they use to guzzle.

It’s over. It’s all over. I’m kaput.

Doomed as Pompeii’s my composure

To my amygdala’s magma and soot,

Kickin’ open the casket to yet again

An existential crisis in full exposure

w/ its soul-sucking kiss

& mood-mucking sores

& I just cry and cry til the world pours

and pours.

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