"Storytime"

I blankly mouthed her representation as
a presentation to one
with no specific purpose but to remember my story
lost in anhedonic hedonism
In other days, to other world I whispered
and murmur as a daily chore,
picking apart my favorite whore
who would trade her time for a story
A story screamed as I stalk my memory
and immortalize it as a true deliberation of power
one that in brief intervals
recreates perfection
To other worlds I joke in attempts
to recover this carefree history
that I would spend my eternity with new souls,
not mine, telling tall tales
To remember, to feel in the blanks
in the eternal, bold line that we rested on
To remind, to convince this con is
significant as more than any other
flattened dream in the
subdued continuity of man
If I joke enough yet remind as so,
the associations grow stale,
and I may be doomed to never laugh
beyond a repressed creation
You, independent, do not need to remind me such,
such mismatched thoughts as
my perturbed ideals
While I must remind you of my
quest of knowing no answers
If I don't remind you of this
durable past, what do you think of me?
If I don't remind myself,
what stories do I have to tell?
There is no re-minding, no aim on
rebranding, and an eternal anathema
on removing you from this
mind that easily removes so much