I wanted there to be lots of memories.
Without memories you don’t know
Who you are. You’re lost
In a cloud of unknowing, like looking
Through a window coated in frost.
You see nothing, just a dim light.
Words, numbers, faces, objects,
events, you forget – what a sight!
Here they come, for a visit.
They pretend they know who I am.
It’s Christmas Eve. I wouldn’t wish it
On my worst enemy. The faces
Come close, with hair and teeth,
Smiling and showing me traces
Of who they might once have been.
Now they are nothing to me.
I don’t want to be seen.
I wish they would go.