Raping Memories Poem by Mita Diran

We fold our clothes and hold our calls
We pack our things in instrument cases
So we could sing with our guitars
A song that's tinted with forgotten faces

A little time, a pinch of tears
A little trip to go out West
What's this, I hear?
A song you sing?
A sad old tune of memory rape.

'I heard a story of a girl
Who closed her eyes and almost died
For what she saw, she took her life
For what she remembered, she survived

Time is an angel in disguise
If not for time, she wouldn't last
For here today she stands upright
Renouncing the love she once forgot'