Everything is so.
Elegant.

Everything is so.
Neat.

Harmonious.

I wonder if the forests.
Will be just as beautiful.
On fire.

As they are.
In my memory.

Everything is empty inside.
And I see your passing face.

Somewhere down the line.

I thought I knew you.
But maybe it was just the image.

I had in my mind.

This is the wasted space.
I take up.

Starving myself as punishment.

Just can't connect.
And be.
Pro social.

My mind's numb.
My memory fuzzy.
And.
I can't remember what I told to you.

Whether good.
Bad.
Or somewhere middling.
In between.

It all just dissolves into an amorphous mess.

My memory.
Images of where I used to be.
Fragile enough.

To be forgotten.

All there is.
Is the silence.
The high pitched squeal.
Of the death of my hearing.

And.
I can hear the emptiness punctuated with electrical whines.
Anticipating something to just.
Fill the air.

With an angsty.
Revolt.
Against the.
Calm.

All the things I havent said.
I'd like to say.
Sometime far away.
Maybe, before I'm dead.

I've lost the motivation.
I've forgotten the plot.
To my multi syllabic salvation.
With an obfuscated forget me not.

I've written out my frustration.
Onto the rap sheet.
Of when I fell asleep.
Can't write with this lack of attention.

I think I'm trying to  resolve.
The contradiction in my mind.
Writing something to absolve.
Me, of this truth I just can't find.

I have so many things to say.
Just, maybe not today.

I don't know the words.
That meant so much.
To you.

I just said them.