Dear memory,
You have been playing games with me lately.
And I have let you.
You have been eluding my mind.
You have been toying with my heart.
You have been hiding in my intestine.
You have been refusing to let my neurones alone.
And I have let you.
I have been more tolerant lately.
You have been digging with a spade,
Collecting in a wheelbarrow,
And carrying pieces of yourself around.
You have even sneaked in a mallet to smoothen some bumps.
Finally, last night when I caught you with the spanner;
I decided.
I have been more tolerant lately.
But now no more.
You have taken me for granted.
You have used my patience.
You have betrayed my trust.
You are precious to me.
I hold ever inch of you in reverence.
Both the good and the bad.
The real and the imaginary.
The happy and the sad.
The reflection of me and not so me.
But now no more.
Blinded by love, I won't.
I should not have encouraged alterations.
I should not have always let you.
You seem to be targeting a revolution.
You seem to be shifting your identity.
You seem to be looking for a piece,
Which just fits the missing link.
I should have warned you.
Blinded by love, I won't.
The time has arrived.
To shift everything in search is not the answer.
Even if found,
The object will then be futile.
There would be nothing the object knows.
There would be nothing you have grown to know.
The object will be lost
As will be you.
Let it lay in peace.
And one day,
It will by itself rise.
Sleep softly after all your toils.
To finally rest,
The time has arrived.