Spiders do not make good company
But I find myself nestled in their webs
Driven to them through the ebb and flow
Of the perceived negligence shown
By many I call friend.
It was hard to acquiesce
The finesse at which the culmination
Of circumstance, whim and disposition
Amassed this nation of a notion
That to them, memory of me
Is fragmented at best.
I heave my chest
To keep abreast with
the dress I tailored to suit the ties
They have to me
Not forsaking their friendship
But longing to forsake this insecurity
That outside my own conscience,
I exist.
I crave that some value persists
And is not lost to some truncation
That I made in error
Not that i’d remain forever
But that the aggregate of me
Would find shelter in the heart
And minds of those whom I consider precious;
To be remembered.
And not for this memory to be read only
But randomly accessed through any
Random process that outputs something along the lines of
“Hey, I thought about you today”
Or, “Hi! is everything okay?”
not that I’ve won their heart
And certainly not that to them I amount to zero,
But just that i’d be remembered a little bit.


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