Tap, Tap, Tap

Tap, Tap, Tap

Eyes clamp down squeezing pain

into a stream of ragged tears.

Mind races to find the source.

To find the why.

Tap a steady rhythm

First one leg then the other

Invisibly retracing a lifetime

Reliving a million events in between heartbeats

Tap a rhythm with eyes open but unseeing

Steady and distracting they touch something.

She asks that I remember the best memory

The million memories pass by

But not a good one among them.

How can that be

Not one in a million

Tap tap tap but not one stands out.

Why would my mind do that?

Tap, tap, tap, stuck so tight in pain.

I’ll have to go to the journals

Will I remember

Tap, tap, tap will I recognize myself

In the words.

Or is it simply a story of someone

else’s success or good fortune?

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