Had another go at last verses

“Despite their dementia  they do remember well that they have a family that is never here for them. They call their names into emptiness, and cry at the thought of abandon .” a comment from BBC website

Dementia

I cried and sucked their teats. They drew a face on me

 in their own image, one I never asked for,

constructed a smile and ears to take orders.

A face to take my place in the dance down the street.

My face made sense to me back then.

It had a proper name, even a wife of sorts,

and of course being a so important face,

it had a well paid job somewhere in the city.

When they weren’t looking I washed my face.

They didn’t see me get away. I dabbed at it,

wiping off that smile, until a new face looked back

and I was re-born into a fragmented world.

They never hear me calling out their names.

Alone to clutch at the bones of memories,

losing grip, I am drowning in the emptiness.

(They did not see me cry for the cat that died.)