Before I forget

Before I forget,
let me say that I occasionally want to
reach through the nothing
but time, distance, air, electrons
that

separate

us, and grab hold of you
by the throat.
I want to pull you
back to me,
and put my mouth
on yours,
drink you whole,
and then
push you forward again,

away

from me.

I want you to
remember.
I want you to look back at me
and always remember
that I was the one
who made you bleed.
I was the one
who first made you
what you are
and showed you
all the things you wanted.
I made you worried
you were a freak,
but then I made you love that.

Before I forget,
let me say that I sort of wish
I could bite into you like a ripe apple,
listen to the crunchsweet of you
under my teeth.
I want to tear you open
and delight in your pulse,
then drop you to the ground,
a forgotten wrapper,
a pretty decoration.

I want you to
remember.
I want you to
always remember.
You think
you did this to me,
but in truth
you were always
helpless against me.
You believe
what I wanted you to believe,
what is convenient
for me,
for you
to believe.

Before I forget,
let me say
that I betimes lose myself,
and I would
look to you to find me.

Remember me.
I want you to
remember me.

Always
remember me.

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0 Responses to Before I forget

  1. Trent Lewin says:

    Jones! Well I’m back and will be going through your catalogue of lost pieces. So a question has always been to me if something or someone can be beautiful and blazingly dark all at the same time – that’s the space I think you occupy, and I’m pretty sure I don’t know anyone else who dwells there. You are balls to the wall unique, do you know that? You scare me but you never scare me away.

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