You, you are someone I can never forget. You dwell in the alleyways of my memory lane, and when it is time for me to go back among the living, to live once again, you jump out of your solitude, you grab me by the collar, and tug me and throw me into the murkiness below your pedestal, into the reality.
There is very little connection between the essentials here, you, me, and the reality. It is in the moments of crisis, that you come out, only to retreat back again, like a turtle queen inside her palatial sorrow. And I beg you to come out into the sunlight, and show me my way back home, but to no use. It is not my moment of crisis, for I am one who belongs to the road, to travelling, to being rootless, and to disavowing my needs of a settlement.
My moment of crisis is when I stagnate, when stop and start to look around at the ground below me, trying to remember whether it had been barren or lush green the last time I traversed this age old path. My weakness, is the tendency of turning glacial, and so you exist, to stop me from being a frozen stream of consciousness.
And that is the reason you scare the shit out of me. I know how much I need you, and so do you. But you are the turtle, dreaming inside her sorrow, so when you reach out that mouth and bite, trying to claim a piece of me all for yourself, you hurt me. It isn't that I'm not ready to give up my flesh and bones for you, but only if you'd promise to become that colourful butterfly and stop being the old turtle. I am selfish, and don't know what is right, and what is left for my own safety, and so I want you out here below the night sky, beside me.
But no, your true place is in the palatial sorrow, a palace I built for you my Queen, inside my mind so you may stay warm. And so that you may comfort me, letting me know it wont be over soon.
And so you dwell alone in the dark alleyways like a lone spectre, never letting me bury my own ashes, my own past, for you are the Unforgettable, and you'll never let me go.
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