knowing me

As a young woman dealing with memory loss from ECT, this is me

There’s little light for writing, but I still gravitate to the computer screen.
My twisted tongue longs for validity
The keyboard sits calmly underneath my fingers

I feel enchanted
There’s a yearning to explain my memories
Images flash through my mind, though there are less than yesterday

Somehow, I still understand myself
My wrinkled t-shirt
The bloody acne on my face
Mascara smeared on my temples
The tendency to stay close to what I know
Regretting the lies that fall from my lips

My complexities bathe in my blood, their depth unknown
But it still makes sense to me

In the end, if all that I can remember is my name, I will sing it to everyone