Dreaming Fiction

Bad Memory

I don't remember the poems I write. I don't remember the words or the phrases or the names without looking at them. I don't remember because it's not my poetry. I'm not the one writing, but my hands and my keyboard are used in the process. Someone else, who loves poetry and lives in lyrics, writes my words for me. I don't remember my poetry because while my eyes are looking at the screen, I'm not there. In my place is a writer and a poet whose mind is flooded with words and the only way to clear it is to type it all out.
I don't remember my words. I don't remember because when I sit down and settle the computer or notepad in my lap, I clock out. I am my brain and my brain doesn't know what to do with these useless words. My brain doesn't write poems for me so I don't use my brain to write. I use my heart.
I don't remember my poetry. I can read it aloud with the beats and emotion I intended it for, but I cannot remember. My brain doesn't read it, my brain and I are the ones who don't remember. My heart remembers and reaches out and reads aloud when I see my own poems and phrases. I trust my heart to write, and when I get a stroke of inspiration, I must write everything down because otherwise it will fill me up. It will spill over my heart and keep flooding me until it clouds my brain and I can't focus on what I'm trying to do.
I don't remember my poetry, but when it comes to me I write it down. If I write it down, I don't need to remember and every time I get to read it for the first time.