Blasted!

It seems,

as of late,

I wander through bits of debris.

Chaos and mess everywhere.

Brain shrapnel mostly..

pink and still breathing,

clinging to all that is life
within it's memory banks.

But I see memories scattered like shards of glass,

yet reading like shreds of newspaper.

I am desperate to read them, but they are hard to pick up.

Dangerous, actually.

I may cut myself in doing so.

I don't need any more wounds just yet....

I haven't healed up the old ones still.

These memories are mine.

Relationships torn,

things said,

reactions viewed

opinions forced,

Backs turned.

I look all around me,

and debris floats in the air around me looking for a place to settle...

Stuff I have forgotten,

yet i cannot control myself and pick things up and relive them

and open new wounds upon old wounds and feel them all over again...

my thoughts become a whirlwind,

wicked,

powerful.

I am enraptured in them all.