23rd February 2020

I used to make a list
Well weekly
Maybe monthly.
The plan was to remember
Not just the faces
But the places and times
Everything in perfect detail
So one day
Perhaps today
I could write my memoirs
Or confess.
Carol most definitely
Mary is a yes
Elizabeth from Scotland
Sarah at least one
Angela two
And Amanda there were several
But each new face destroys another
Always changing.
I tried all ways
But in the end the memories fade
Or sometimes are washed away
By guilt or alcohol, or both. 
Serial something
Or hater
Or abused
Always one or the other
Never even steven
Lasting longer than an itch. 
Looking back it was good
A thing of legend
If ever I related
Beyond the barest details
Escaping me unguarded
In moments of reflection. 
I am hungry now
Famished for something permanent
Lasting longer than the box of tissues
It takes to dry my tears. 
The wastrel crying?
Whatever next
The virtuous in control?
Of course they are.
You really have no conception
A topsy turvey world
Everything quite out of place
Yet perfectly aligned. 

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