woody allen trips me up sometimes

Sometimes I walk around with a little fantasy in my head
Of the people I'll meet, the people I've said
Sometimes I'll get these deep urges to journal and to write
and I'll print pictures and pictures and pictures of the things I love
and the things
that mystify.

Midnight in Paris, 2011

But these urges are becoming few and far between
and I wonder if that means my last few relationships with creativity
is leaving me.

And I fear and I fear and I fear

And I fear and I fear

and I fear.

A piece I won't get back

Sometimes I forget.
I forget that I'm necessary,
             that I'm loved,
             that I matter,
             that I am strong.

These days, I've forgotten these things more often than I'd like.
As if little by little, an eraser has quietly been rubbing away another piece of me.
A piece I won't get back.

I miss more people now.
I miss familiar touches.
I miss the sound of people's voices,
and I miss the physical presence of those
I love.

I don't want to forget, but I do.
What if I forget everything?
What then will I be.

Don't forget me.
Please.
Don't forget me.