March 31, 2014

the first thing to be swallowed by the blackness is the face… time and distance make her unrecognizable, starting with the edges. she sinks away into the dark waters. her lips and high cheeks fading. all slowly unremembered. her speech going last, no longer there, loud and gentle. unremembered. unremembered.

and when you go shuffling through that endless arrangement of memories, you’re manic, struggling, trying to find the littler moments to seize, some snippets where clarity lingers but you cannot. you have nothing left anchoring her here to the now, its all lost.

all because you took the past for granted. sometimes, most times. in a youthful foolishness you believe your mind wouldn’t leak, wouldn’t fail, wouldn’t forget, but it did. it breaks. it cannot harbor the lovely days forever.

and you remain pained, in forgetting what you promised you wouldn’t.

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  • Ani Mouradian

    “in forgetting what you promised you wouldn’t”, beautiful, and bittersweet, and true