Memory
It’s a funny thing
Stored in your neurons
Millions of little things
Mine in particular
Is a little quirky
I remember some high points
But a lot more times when I was jerky
I could have done
Thousands of wonderful things
Back in 1981
But when I try to recall them
The bad things will be all that will come
Some have said
It’s part of my nature
To recall the bad and the sad
All I know
Is that it makes getting to sleep at night
A herculean task
Filled with thrashing wishing and thinking
When sleep is really all that I ask
It haunts me during the day as well
When I’m driving to work
I’ll see something, hear something
Or smell a particular smell
And, like as not
It will remind me of one or another
Of my own personal hells
I know I need therapy
But I’ll never go
I am the way I am
And I’m leaving it just so
Just know
That if you ever do something nice for me
Or congratulate me
Or voice praise
It’s not you I’m looking uncomfortable about
It’s not you who bring a frown to my lips
It’s just me
I’m not worthy of any of it
And I know it full well
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