Forgetting

        ''Il n'est rien qui soit pour un homme plus infinie
           torture que ses propres pensées"
                                 John Webster  ''Le Démon blanc''
                                 cité dans "Poussière tu seras''
                                  de Sam Miller.

I wish someone could invent some sort of drug
That you could, like druggies, inject in your  arm,
Some sort of drug which, within minutes
Could erase the demons of your past,
The demons which you are totally responsible
For creating for yourself through
Your sheer stupidity.
Demons which hunt your life,
Your dreams (indeed, nightmares)
And won't ever let you go.
They are like someone of your past
Holding that stiletto and gently cutting pieces of you,
Pieces which never bleed but cuts which hurt eternally.
Small cuts gently added every single day
That you breathe
To remind you of the hurt you inflicted.
So, suffer, you fool.