childhood memories
I forget or-
discard, they litter
my floor, abandoned puppets
with knotted strings
as I get older
my fingers stumble
pulling against the knots
as I try to gather them
back up, but foolishly
I assume they will always be there
pristine as if yesterday, but-
they are fleeting as youth
slowly degrading, breaking down
these abandoned puppets
my memories, crumbling in my hands
faster than I can try to unknot my neglect
Poetic Trials 