A Brief History of Knowing | Poetry Series

I am sitting on the toilet scared,

having a shit.

that’s all I could remember for this morning.

cold on the seat,

Stand, and try to be productive,

just walk around for a minute

you’ll get there, you’ll get there.

some days, I can’t remember anything

without remembering

that anything could be

recorded wrong,

all my memories of special places,

and special faces

rolled into a ten minute VCR film in my head

blury round the edges,

I don’t remember my house being like that.

or my neighbours cat

or the doorbell ringing, accept for once.

is this hell, in my head, or does everyone forget?

how the days blur into one,

I can’t remember the last time i tried,

to remember properly.

Or to write poetry

No God but Good

A Brief History of Knowing | Poetry Series