The Axe Forgets The Tree Remembers

It's all coming back to me...
A trickle of memory like a vallium drip, that's how it spreads through me. The same burning tingle, full of fear and bliss. Invasive.

I lay awake, waiting to succumb to dear sleep. My eyes open wide and full of things I was sure I'd forgotten.

No wonder I disassociate the way I do. A fog that thickens the further I gaze. A 40 degree tilt to my meditative eyes. Don't look confused... you've done it, when you can't stop staring.

When people cope with the bad things, the good things are kept at bay too. We build brick walls, not screens. It would be better if we could filter our feelings, so very complicated.

What we can't forget, we bury deep. But the pleasantness too, is kept from arms reach. Every cure carries a side-effect. There is no disease without symptom.