Blind Spot

This is a non-rhyming poem about forgetfulness.

Blind Spot

Burr on the edge of my consciousness,
How dare you mock me?
Your wrath and cruelty slay
The person I was a second ago.
You're taunting me with a tree of knowledge
And a jungle-bound fountain of youth.
I am a slave chain-yoked to
All my memories before your rise.
Tantalus! I know your face and fate;
We are brother and sister
In the sight of these mockeries.
Burr, spine, pin-prick of the haze -
You are too fragile to capture.
Your glass sides let in the light
And shall break when I reach for you.
Your shattering upon the floor of my mind
Will be your ultimate, stabbing jeer -
And then all is lost.