for all my forgotten memories, wherever they are

i fear i forget too much. i can’t live without my memories, for i am made of them and my past experiences absorb me whole and i still can’t help but ponder about what happens to the ones that slowly fade into the obscure abyss of my sickened mind.

i hope they’re doing okay. i hope they’re dancing around each other completing parts of my mind i no longer hold.

i wonder if memories, once forgotten, dissolve into nothingness, perhaps subsisting without a psyche, or if they linger in some intangible form, awaiting rediscovery by a mind that might never return.