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?