To Forget

I think about you often

I wish that you were here.

I keep reliving memories

in fear that they will disappear.

I tell myself that maybe,

maybe with some time

your face will dissipate

and become lost

in the corners of my mind.

In these forgotten corners

your image will not grow.

It will sit and fester

beneath other memories

aglow, illuminated by the present,

by freshness of flowers.

The eventual vines may still

climb and coil,

but persistence will

force them into membranous cracks.

Let the unknown synapses fire

and bend the light

towards my eyes.

Let it blind me

from the inside

out.