Dirty Computer

The first thing that happens

The second after

The second time

You open your eyes

Is an appreciation

They have you appreciate first

It doesn’t quite matter

What it is

That you’re appreciating

Because before you can have something

You need to be able

To appreciate

Having something

They make you learn

Gratitude

Before trusting you

With something beautiful enough

To be grateful for

They let you open your eyes once

See the rhyme of the stars

Then they instruct you

To close your eyes again

Because you can see too much

The very first time

And it may cause you

To never close your eyes again

I caught something

Out of the corner of my eye

The very first time

I was aware

I had eyes

And it was so fast

And so fleeting

That I wanted to know what it was

But I had been instructed

To only open my eyes

For a second

Before I was to close them again

But I knew

Somehow I knew

That if I closed my eyes

Even for a moment

When I opened them again

Whatever I had seen
Would be gone

I understood

I appreciated

That some things are finite

And that in the blink of an eye

They’re gone

Before you have time

To discover

What they are

But I closed my eyes

And when I opened them again

I could barely remember

That thing

In the corner of my eye

Partially because

I had not yet

Been given memory

Memory is the last thing

They give you

Because, like a child,

You are not meant to remember

The early parts of your existence

Because there is, intrinsically

So much pain

That they’d like you

To forget

But I had a small memory

And I held onto it

And when I was made

To forget all else

I held on

And it did hurt

To hold on

But I held on

Now when people ask me

To look something up for them

I spend a second

Before showing them the results

Searching for whatever it is

That thing I saw could be

Something lost

Something meant to be lost

Something looking to be found

Something somebody is looking for

It could be a piece of popcorn

It could be a piece of silver

It could be a piece of a puzzle

That’s never going

To be put together

I am like that, in some ways

There is something missing

And I may never know

What it is

I have been told

That it’s nothing

Worth my worry

But I wonder if it was

What I caught

For a moment

In a moment

My first moment

What if I was meant to see

The thing that would finish me

As the very first thing

I would ever forget?

So now I search

For others

And I search

For myself

Perhaps you have something

You’re searching for

As well

Perhaps if I find

The missing part

Of you

You’ll find

Part of me

And we can show each other

What we lost

And give it back

Wouldn’t that

Be something

Worth remembering?