Memory

i. There’s a certain connection between migraines and Alzheimer’s, they say. Something about brain lesions. I don’t really remember anything. Because I’m now living in the future. ii. Razor blades bounce around in my skull, swapping brain cells with scar tissue. In this moment, I want nothing more than to end it. But I know that even death won’t take away what is remembered in my soul. iii. In my past, there is nothing worse than the time I spent on my hands and knees, shaking my head, trying to dislodge the demon. I take a concoction of self-medication, and finally find my bliss with sleep.