Memories and November Nights

I wish that I didn’t remember

Every dying word,

Every sinister number

That seems to be etched

Into the walls of my heart’s

One flailing chamber,

And I don’t wish to be put into

An extended slumber

For my mind to dismember

Itself in order to sort through

Fragments of burnt thoughts

In search of a salvageable ember,

For I am too much in love

With this time of the year

To give it up like that,

But if that is what it takes

To forget what I

So painfully remember,

I begrudgingly surrender!

I’ll pretend that the sombre

Nights in December

Are as ineffable

As the ones in November!

©Aaysid

“The past beats inside me like a second heart.”
John Banville, The Sea

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