Profile photo of Heather Bartlett

Wounds

The fear of forgetting is haunting me

Cherry pick my train of thought

Before it passes me.

It couldn’t be

That the dangers of the past

Have crept up in my memory

Too many times.

I’ve adapted

I’m proud of that.

No thanks to you,

Fight or flight mode,

Constantly.

Instantly guarded,

Weary and cold-hearted

I will finish what you started.

End the mess

I must confess

I’m happier forgetting.


Profile photo of Heather Bartlett

Heather Bartlett

I write scary stories, poems and insight on life, love and grief. I aspire to have printed work within the next few years. You can find my other work at Madmainemomma.wordpress.com

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