I Will Never Reread What I Write

I can’t withstand it.

I don’t want to go back in time,
to the exact moment in which the words met paper,
in which my fingers met the keys
in which my silent thoughts became spoken lines.

All artists know that
every form of art is reminiscent of a time, a place, and a memory
that is held deeply in our hearts, and it is easier to share it
with the world
than it is to relive the moment it was created

Because if a memory didn’t mean so much to us,
we would have kept it to ourselves
instead of disseminating its impact to others.

I can only hope that others would learn from open
vulnerability
and feel connected recollections of their own
because I already have the piece forever in my soul,
and that is fulfilling enough for me.