remember when it was more than this.
remember the hiss of snow on the lake,
the feel of fire in its place.
remember the forgetting.
remember what truth was, its high-flung pain.
remember the next night.
remember the taste of never,
the perfection of a kiss in the sun.
remember the last time you felt safe.
remember that you are more than (t)his.
remember the dregs and the puddles.
remember these words: concave, blue, gravel, catatonic.
remember the walk barefoot, cobbled in rain.
remember the screams.
remember the hand that picked you back up.
remember why.
remember how it ended, and where it began.
remember that which it is needful to remember,
the song you never meant to hear.
remember that dreams, too, are sometimes prophetic.
the tenth muse 
nice…def cryptic at points but i am sure for who it was intended it is not so much…the barefoot walks is a nice memory…while others not so much…a nice blend…some even a mix themselves like that line on truth…interesting piece j
yes dreams can be. in a good way , if we just let and make them come true.
remember the taste of never – I do. Sometimes it was sweet and other times bitter. How you handle the after taste of each takes some ” know-how ” I think.
A powerful write… captivating and nicely penned.
remember when life was simpler
before the neuroses inveigled their way
into all leaky compartments
before Mamma said she didn’t want kids
and before Pappa left inside for a far off fantasy
before you were told that you were a “sinner”
by well dressed fearsome Sunday goers
before that nice old neighbor fingered you
before the kid at school ruined your purse
with a quick, insolent scrawl of chalk
before the teacher yelled at you for cheating
before the 7th grade girls were jealous
cause you had tits and they didn’t
before Mamma had her first nervous breakdown
the pills on the dresser, the blood in the bathtub
can you really remember before all that?
what hope do you have in revisiting memories
that add up to nothing more than pain?