Maybe I don’t remember the day
I became a shadow of myself,
and maybe I do.
Does it really matter?
Today, I am all recollection and
no light, making homes out of
memories and locking myself in.
If you find yourself inside me,
ask to keep a key.
Stay focused.
Eye on the door.
I carry the weight and the want
of the world on my tongue and
my want is hungry.
It’ll devour you.
Ask to be shown the exits.
Carry a knife in your pocket.
Cover that heart on your sleeve.
Someone is always trying to kill
me, sometimes it is someone
carrying my own name.
Don’t get caught in the cross-fire.
Don’t believe my heart will save
you. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
When you ask when I became this
person, I say I don’t
remember; but maybe I remember
every single little detail,
and maybe I don’t.
What matters is –
I don’t remember how
to be light
again.