Every writer wants to scribe magnificent content. However, most writing is found discarded or forgotten. There was a mentality ages ago that printed press would be utilized to line birdcage, papermache, or to wrap fish and chips. Although some words remained seared in the mind, the tactile artifacts are obliterated; there is the odd scrapbook floating around with clippings. Written identity is one in which solidifies pertinent expression and is necessary to ensure balance between cognition and emotion (although emotion is intertwined with cognition & they both love to mess with each other simultaneously.) 

Dive into expression 
   if you please 

 If you knew your impact 
    post expiration 
  would it matter 
    thick dust collected 
 in between the hippocampus
    and thalamus 
       
An academic lifetime 
   compressed knowledge 
betrayls with honey 
  and calloused damage 
  renders appreciation 
     and the slight sliver 
 of "throw away the plan (Captain Cold, 2000 something)."

  Would you? 
      Would you consider 
   POOF! Nonexistence 
       what will be left of your identity? 
   
   Memories 
      manikins void of a soul
  decomposed flesh 
     saturation of insects 
       that feast on chemical waste
  
  Absent hugs 
     murmurs of affection 
  the one smile which changed one's day  
       or that talk at 3:00 am 
   that changed a trajectory? 

No one ever knows
   the pain felt 
 or how micro-actions 
  reveal massive 
       truth