AMENSIA

The ease with which I forget certain characters
In the telling of my story is a sorry mistake.

It is, however, a ubiquitous ritual among humans,
to casually and chronically forget each other.

But every person is sentient and deserves to
Be remembered by someone, sometime;

The curly haired, obese woman met in the grocery
Store line who said, “I just found out I have cancer;”

A child in her bedroom with the lights still on
Listening to muffled shouts and screams, weeping;

The mustached man whose smile reminds me
That I am still an innocent child, deep down inside.

An entire race of beings and their plights are
Constantly forgotten, saved for another day.

I am sorry now, too, to have forgotten those who
In naïve, desperate teenage sobs suddenly become

Missed – sorry to think of all the promises I made
To myself in many somber, inebriated ceremonies

Which later, in the future, are broken and shattered,
When I would beg of myself,

Do not forget them.