Memory

I walk and walk.

Where am I going?

I can’t for the life of me remember.

Yet I keep walking.

There seems no point.

Dread and grief hangs readily in the air.

I see a blur of people and I sit down.

Do I remember now?

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I remember running.

Why was I running?

I see alleys and streets.

Just running and running.

I remember holding medicine in my hand.

I don’t know why.

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I stopped abruptly somewhere.

That happened too.

Where was it?

It was a dark room.

There was someone looking out the window.

Rain covered the windowpane.

I felt the chill of metal in my hands.

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I was sleeping.

Someone interrupted me.

I woke up and I was the centre of attention.

There was thunder and lightning.

It was bright, sharp, loud fire.

There was a streak of fleeting pain.

He left.

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There was grief.

It was merely momentary.

Then I was taken over by another.

This was an unclear memory.

I remember more of a blur than anything else.

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Fear was indescribable.

It was palpable.

Neither do I remember much.

The overdose of love was wonderful.

I could have never felt so blessed.

I felt everything; a sense of normality reversed.

What exactly did I do?

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Now I feel something different.

There is a shock.

Then my memories just end.

There is nothing; I feel nothing; all I can do now is wait.

And so I wait.