I remember.

I remember all the things I should not,

All the things long forgotten,

Sealed away into my chest of copper.

Locked away for none to see the blood,

But for all to point and laugh at the scars.

But time takes away the pain,

Heals the wounds but keeps the scars close to you.

I remember the way my head spun around like a disoriented chicken,

The way my blood boiled up to a hundred degrees,

The heat of the flame upon my delicate flesh,

The stinging pain of hot skin ripping underneath cold metal.

And the way the blood poured from them, oozing out in ounces, pounds, liters.

Drawing hearts with red, red, red.

Beautiful paintings of my parts,

Parts cut out and gone forever,

Skin stretched into a blanket of veins and arteries and muscle and fat and tissue.

I remember darkness, I remember cold, empty, alone, gone.

I remember a lighting hand appearing,

Blinding me with it's bright,

Reaching out for me, tiny and in pieces, bit it tried to put me back together,

Piece by piece,

Memory by memory,

Forgotten and forgiven.

Until the final parts,

Memories to big to bear,

Pieces to broken to repair.

Screams and echos,

Wailing and crying,

Hands and bodies not belonging to mine.

Crashed.

I crashed then,

Falling back down the pit of despair,

Falling and falling,

Until I landed on the hard stone ground.

But I crashed too fast,

Too hard,

Too much.

Turning into dust, crumbling.

All the process, gone,

Turning back into the broken thing I was.

For I shall never forget again,

Even while they taunt me forever in my nightmares,

The memories of pain.

August 10th 2022