My fear?
What I'm afraid of?
Who will remember me when I'm the last to die?
The responsibility of keeping their memories alive rests on my shoulders. I have no one else to share that burden with.
Will I be forgotten, the same as those memories that I no longer have the capacity to recall?
Will the memories of my existence fade into meaningless history like those before me?
You see, I grieve for you because I love you. I cry for you because I will continue to love you. Will anyone cry for me?
And so I ask, who will be there to remember me?
I cannot say that I am afraid that my existence is insignificant, so I say that I'm afraid of the dark.
-
YOU ARE READING
-Book of Secrets-
Poetryusing this as a journal and dumping my thoughts in here. kinda depressing. I wanted them to be seen because I know someone out there feels the same. feel free to vent in the comments. personally I like when I feel understood by strangers, makes me...
