In the Dark Part of My Mind

Your memories, my friend,

Are not lost

But stolen

As an act of kindness.

It would be nice if you could remember this.

But,

Of course,

You can’t.

That was part of the deal.

When you sit, perplexed

Scratching your head in forlorn effort

To recall some happy time

Or names of old dear friends,

You feel aggrieved.

If only you could remember

Begging me to take your mind

And empty it of terror –

The memories of your past.

I warned you.

I warned you that I would take all your memories,

The good ones, too.

But your head was full of fear,

Remembering the pain you caused,

The deaths you wrought.

Desperate to lose those images of depravity; deepest, darkest, dirtiest

Secrets,

Unknown to the world,

Yet destroying your mind,

You earnestly agreed.

You pleaded, even, for me to waste no time.

And so

I stole your memories

And stored them in my mind

With a million others, saving you from madness

But condemning you to sadness

That comes with losing memories

Of happy times

And laughing friends.

You see, I have to take those, too,

To maintain some balance in my mind.

For otherwise, I would explode

And go insane

With the madness of the memories I store

In the dark part of my mind.

@Famewriter