I Forgot Again

I forgot again.

I fooled me twice, forgetting how I felt

the last time I forgot.

It's in remembering that I am,

yet I can't quite recall how last it was

that I was led to memory.

I'll soon forget that I forgot,

and once again forget.

I'll tie another bow now, though,

hoping to tie my troubles to it, too.

Tied troubles try, loosed troubles fly

to fuzziness where forgotten lies the fact:

the folly of forgetting is forged

in truth's enfoldment.

Did I want to forget?

Must it be in the ache of remembering

that I truly become?

Maybe yes to both, maybe to neither.

I forget.

But please remind me.