there are things I wish I would’ve done

and things I once wished I could change.

I made some mistakes along the pubilshing

process that almost made me faint

 

however

 

one day, I will

be able to look back on this and smile, not cringe

because I plunged

into that icy surface with eyes wide open

and it’s mine (no one can take this)

that’s why writing this was a challenge

 

this book had no remorse,

the things that it required of me

to withdraw to think

to stop to think

to cry it out to think

to apologize to think

to forgive to think

to accept to think

to open to think

think, think, think…

it took so much thinking…

and that brought so much feeling…

 

I spent a lot of time in the womb of my mind…

I didn’t know what I would find…

that I hadn’t accepted my mother’s

death

that God had came down

and stared me right in the face,

my face,

my mother’s face

and that shit takes the breath

right out of you…

I didn’t know she possessed

the majority share

of the air I breathed

I searched and scoured recklessly

(blessedly, my mother provided

a passion for writing

a gift that keeps giving

one that keeps me breathing

even from over the horizon)

until I found my true keep,

until I awoke and saw

life/death clearly

and it’s riveting

if not motivating

(although the constant awarness

is still residing, haunting)

 

I wanted to conclude

Amnesia’s presentation

to provide you

with a more suitable representation

of it’s creation and

I know I’m not the only one struggling with this

I can’t be

this is a universal

tragedy

that keeps on

giving

you are not alone,

(and I struggled with this too)

I tell you,

you are not alone…

 

-B. Brown