Lying here beaten, Forgotten by everyone, Light dying out, snuff.

You say I am not up to snuff Due to my gender Due to my past It’s your ignorance But I assure you, you will be beaten At this game At this life I will rise

And then, you will be forgotten.

The fire simmered down to a low snuffed out by the heavy night breeze, smoke twirling in soft tendrils in the night sky. He watched as the smoke drifted up and danced in the sky, following it with his eyes until it disappeared. Sometimes he wished he could be smoke, one moment he’d be there, and the next... gone. Forgotten. Gone with the breeze. To be picked up by the wind and follow the smoke to wherever it would lead him, live there and be happy with his life. But he can’t do that... He let his eyes fall to the dying embers of the fire, the orange and yellow orbs glinting with the last signs of life, flickering and blinking. He sat up and ran his fingers through the wiry grass, tugging as it knotted around his fingers. Dragging his knees up close to his chin he picked at the flaking paint of his beaten shoes. He stood up, stomping on what was left of the fire, leaving him in total darkness and no longer able to watch the smoke. Maybe it’s better that way.

We walked along the beaten path, the path everyone walked. The second we stepped on it, everyone else vanished, like they were snuffed out. They all went to the road less travelled by, leaving us alone on the tired path, forgotten.

green dirtied the cars windows and the roads narrowed into wire, the closer they got Smiles might have have danced but memories with color always seem to want to be forgotten- RING RING snuffed out like candles on a windy stormy night lightning cracking the sky holding children captive the waves grew closer but the sound did not RING RING trees became nothing, the green vanishing along with the sun Maybe someone screamed- no! I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe! Help! beaten and unclogged it drained away Drip. Drip. Drip. but the sun burned and perhaps, the birds chirped

When was the last time I saw daylight’s gaze? When was the last time I fed my belly full? When was the last I was dragged far from home? I can’t remember. I’ve forgotten still.

What was that house that felt like a home? What was the stench that I had to snuff? What was that prayer that I wept like a song? I can’t remember. I’ve forgotten still.

Why is my skin wrinkled tight? Why are my feet beaten loose? Why is my neck stiff and taught? I can’t remember. I’ve forgotten still.

When do I daydream of sanctuary’s solace? What image of peace do I conjure? Why do I pierce the mind with fantasy? I no longer remember. I’m forgotten. Still.