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.