Forgetting the Things We Remember (A spoken word poem)

Remember how car crashes sound? Like two families coming together not lovingly or caringly but tragically and disastrously. Remember what it looks like to see pills popping back into the bottle like life in reverse but the only thing actually finding a beginning again were the medications now spralled along the floor just like the person whose body refused to take them. Remember seeing your life flash before your eyes with what seemed like forever but you forgot that forever was what you had before you decided to give yourself no chance. Because it's easier to give up, close the book if you know it's still going to be on the shelf when you come back. "I let my mind do the talking". But the truth is, you are letting memories and fingertips (that are not yours) find your judgement day. Because on your gravestone you would rather find tears than flowers. We cannot let others define our boundries by whatever means they forced you to subscribe to. We were never good at being happy. Nonetheless when it was necessary a light flickered somewhere deep inside the chasms of our chest. Every blood cell in our bodies isued supinas and took every memory to case to justify their actions. And after they were found guilty we set them behind bone jail cells deep in our chest only to still give them some room to slip out. But if they come out again. I want you to hide them in the closet like hangars. And if they overbear those plastic hooks, let them fall to the ground. We are much better than the burning sensation we have felt a hundred times over. We are ancient artifacts and lost travelers will stumble upon you and find beauty in the flaws you possess.  Because the things we remember will be forgotten and before they are I want you to frame them on your wall, because a trip to the past never did any harm. Because a memory was never able to touch you unless a touch created a memory. A body is not made to produce absence. It was made under the sheer factor that factors like fear will never take us down. That we were put only on the premise of breaking things only to build again. And that idea will revolve around our hearts like the lonely solar systems who still look for other forms of life. And although we can still see above the clouds we still believe in the things we cannot see. We carry these faiths in tiny pockets on shirts, with none at all, as we kneel next to hospital beds and as we stand at graduations. Hugging our beloved classmates to say, " Thank you. I'm going to miss you". For so long we have been told that progress means leaving it all behind, but how can you destroy a foundation and still expect the body to stand. Forgetting always meant recognizing absence. Engrave personality into your skin in white ink just light enough to see but only if someone gets close. Find a catalyst to conjure your own future like a culinary institute. A graduation was never a defining point. In the end, we must make sure we are efficient and that the end was only the beginning. So as much to say we can turn to our beloved classmates and say,

"Thank you. You'll hear from me soon".

Guide that inspired this poem: 

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