Erasure

The world rushes by me and the streets are empty

There is only me and the silence between my ears

The others have pushed forward, climbing the ladder

Yet I have remained behind, chained to the concrete

Whether it is my own self-pity or sorrow, I will not know

Worse yet, would be the thrill of claiming an illness

But the monster on my back is yelling in my ear

“Move forward! Move forward!

They will leave you behind!”

 

My mind tends to wander without a tether

And I am not strong enough to bring it back

It goes out and gathers daydreams and nightmares

Returning them to me and stealing from my pockets

I am no longer the king of my thoughts

For they dictate my grief and greatest fears

They command me to live away from the rest

Where the world will continue without me

As if I were already dead.

 

There will be no tombstone to mark my grave

No books in the library with my name between the pages

I cannot foresee that my grandchildren will remember

One such as I who will have done nothing of note

For this crumbling society to recall

I fear that my life will be erased in its entirety

From records, from tongues, from hearts, from minds

And I will have lived as a gust of wind

Passing by, which no one will remember.

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741