I remember you.
I remember the first injury you caused. And the ones you healed. What I don’t remember is when we agreed to these silences. The ones I was sure were worth it. The ones you demanded for our sake. The speech I forsake. It was a cruel path to the side of speech. Where I found my voice. I couldn’t believe you were here, again. Clarity was like wishing on a falling, distant star. Breaking. Reading. Fixing.
I don’t remember why.
I questioned me so much. Analyse, I screamed in my sleep. It sounded to others like destroy. Painful, yet, essential. I vouched for it. I defended the choice. Or compromise. Clarity escaped through the broken parts of me. Three parts broken. One part abstract. That made me whole. But the rest escaped between the gaps. Breaking it up. Reading once more. Fixing better.
I remembered you.
I had just forgotten me.