Off to Oblivion

If I forget and you forget,
can we label all forgotten?
When thoughts are left untouched,
do they too, then, turn rotten?
And grow to monstrous sizes
of layers white and green?
In scary shapes and nauseous forms
you wish you'd never seen.

Or do they vanish like a rainbow,
that reappears from time to time -
just when you least expect it,
like numbers that are prime?

Or do they fix themselves for good
to the corner of my heel
And prick with every step I take,
that I'll never cease to feel?

For I'd like, simply, to bundle them
With prayers, lead them ashore,
Let them find a new horizon
So they can visit me no more.