Andrew Ferez

The great amnesia, merciful amnesia will you steal too my heart?

The love I dared, the love I held for a time in my crooked womb

Purer than any other love, a curious species of Narcissism

The better self, the self that is always forgiven and held up

When I am gone and you still me, still viable, will we be one again?

Will you remember me as on a pedestal or as I was skipping

From grave to grave hoping not for life but for a sudden death

Seemingly innocuous, so as not to spoil too much, your legacy


I read recently that Sylvia Plath’s son committed suicide and I got to thinking about how Depression runs in families and so on