To What End – Elen Hughes

a shadow of a memory

To What End

Chop me up and share out the pieces

My flesh is the giver of life;

it was selfish of me to cling to it for all these years.

Of what remains

Burn it. Bury it. Chuck it in the bin.

Leave it to waste and


only so long as time

In a form

of sorts. 

And all the rest means more

(or less?) 

To whom it may concern

To whom it may provide

a shadow of a memory,

a ripple of what once was,

a comfort in the remembrance of fondness. 

A sham.

The next is not to be dealt with

Or dished out or examined.

It is to be

pure and unfiltered in its falsehood, 

naturally poisoned and distorted, 

in that way – 

Time’s specialty.

Hovering in your mind, interrupting your stories,

somehow more prominent now

Skirting at the edges of your vision, 

Buzzing at the window, 

not quite me

more than I am

(or less?)





Elen Hughes

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