Do I need to go there to that place where I was?
Must I visit a space inside my head and pull out the debris of hidden memory…
Is there a reason for discussion, a theory to revamp?
Rehash what has been… is now a cold case
Why for crying out loud? Its already done, move on…
You, I, us, we together, me too.
We are here my sisters, soulmates in a crime… a war of something we want to go away
It’s a shadow of a memory, not wanting to show its full resolution
A mock up of clearly defined faces and forms
Feeling the pressure in this “keep it together” Prozac driven society
We must “look together” …
Clothes matched just so, with a certain flow of style…
Posture ever so aligned…
A voice, a vocabulary showing no cadence of one damaged
Eyes never flinching or looking like she, you, I, me too was ever at that place.
The space inside our heads, the debris of hidden memories.
By. Carol Douglas-Welter