"To plan for the future without having a sense of history is like trying to plant cut flowers."
so maybe that's why
I can't grow roots,
the memories erased and
the plants die right before they bloom
They say it's self-sabotage
but I can't feel the pain
Yet I sit here with mice and men laying plans and roads and maps and goals
but they crumble; they decay
time wipes those memories away
memories that would give
me roots, bring me
strength, bring the sun
How can I believe the dawn if I can't remember ever seeing it before?
This is the terror of my dark, the dark without memory of the light.
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