synaptic biography

You are the same to me
locked in a memory
residue of past harmony
lingering on in synapses of my mind
you are not the same
though time, shrouded in mystical haze
tells me the truth that i hate to believe
that you have moved on
that you are not the same
i am a keeper of your history
locked into biological matter
i remember you
not as who you were
or who you might have been
but how i experienced you
and how you kept me back
and pushed me forward
how you held my dreams at arms length
you'd grabbed them, mocked me
playfully held them out as if they were an object to scorn
and then i knew, they were my truths
by the way i reacted so viciously
you exist, and yet you don't
some of you has gone
physically, spiritually, literally
but part of you will always remain
you are a part of me
dormant
your life, and who you were to me,
lingers on, in synaptic caverns of my mind
my blood will filter you out
as unrepentant social structure
keeps me bordering on the precipice of insane thought
i am free of you
when i choose to be
not angry
yet acutely aware
and i am no longer bound, you see,
though i am a part of your walking, biological history