A pile of damaged memories

Gets bigger every time

I think about it;

Cannot forget,

Cannot make it disappear.

All that is left

Is to set fire to myself

And watch it all burn with me.

Crimson embers,

So warm and useless;

Mixing with the images

And dead pixels –


Worn out?


I am the odd one out,

Faced with the aftermath

Of the repressed.

A cheap hologram

Of the last truths.

Do not intervene,

Let the embers turn to dust

And spread to others’ minds,

As this is the only freedom

That I will ever get.


Slide your fingers through the wires

And unplug the thoughts.

Every inch is a button

That sets off a bomb;

You leave ripples all around

With every breath

That sets on my neck.

Flammable air particles

Gather around you,

Waiting to absorb the energy

And ignite the space between us.

It will burn like never before,

Until every last molecule turns into light

And the self-destruct sequence is complete.

Time frames

Cutting the time frames

I try to put my memories back together.

None of them is mine,

Faces I see are unfamiliar.

Would I recognize your face

If it appeared on one of the frames?

I shut down,

No more memories.

The last thing I remember

Is trying to reach you

With a helping hand,

And watching you being engulfed

By the fire of pride.

I will create a story

Where you did not burn,

But were left behind;

Abandoned to contemplate your reflection

And the poison you have so willingly accepted.

Cutting the time frames,

I try to put my memories together.

This time, without the fire.