How does one forget? Is it the act of forgetting to remember? Does it happen when you sleep? The things to do, to say, to remember—
Do they just slip out of your ears and drift through the cracks of the door?
Or does it happen when you're busy? Tiny goblins sitting on your shoulders, plucking small thoughts from your mind like a fisherman?
Or did the thoughts never sink in at all? Sliding off the surface of your brain and dissolving.
The memory is a fickle thing. The things you must remember vanish and the ones you want taken away remain.
YOU ARE READING
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RandomEntries from my free-write notebook. Mostly musings, periodic poetry, rarely real events. An escape from the real world, a door to my head.
