The Memories Which Have Forgotten Me

I watch as the sands of time slip through my hands

like the grains of memories 

and the voices of those long gone

losing all rhythm and rhyme

to reason and time.

Keep one eye on the monsters under my bed
an ear out for the voices in my head
open the closet doors
to release the skeletons under my floors.

Whispered on the winds
the quiet call of long forgotten sins
the quiet rustle of snakes in the grass
like the sands of time slipping through an hour glass
hidden in the creaking of an old wooden floor
behind old iron doors
locked away in the maze of memories
who we are and who we were meant to be.

In the waves of a distant sea
watching the world around me
what I was and all of the things I have forgotten to be
I remember the question long since phrased to me,
when they look at you
what will the world see?

So I keep one eye on the monsters under my bed
an ear out for the voices in my head
the quiet whispers of my dead.
I open the closet doors
to release the skeletons under my floors
slipping into the memories which have forgotten me
like the sands of time trickling their way slowly through my mind.