Scribbled Thoughts

There is no other shoe

but you will wait forever,

barely breathing,

for the thud

that will end your torture,

not knowing

it does not exist.

It never existed.

Block out the trauma

and rearrange your memories,

smile at the grieving

because they are wrong.

Nothing has died,

everything is fine,

it’s the only way

you can keep moving.

Disengage your emotions

to listen to others

and pretend it’s what you want

while inside you scream

and cry

and pray for everything

to forget self-interest

so you can slither away

and bask in empty.

Feel the degradation

of your mind,

reality blurring into fantastic

until nothing makes sense

and you talk to ghosts

who are more solid

than your memories.

Follow a purpose

to cling onto something,

anything,

and pray the rot

will spare you that much.

Stuck in the loop

between death and after,

watch the smile

and experience the end.

Manipulate structure

to create something old,

an imitation that fails

to even move alone.

Pour into it too much

until it breaks,

then watch it try to

reconstruct a normal form,

one it’s not ashamed of.

Drain my life

by clinging tighter,

eyes watchful,

never wavering,

until we both

fall asleep

forever.

A voice that coaxes your actions,

guiding your path,

forming your personality,

taking control of your being

until you can’t remember

who you are,

what you’re doing,

or why it ever mattered.

Rewrite the memories

to avoid an imprint

that will destroy everything.

Struggle to hang on

to a sanity

long stripped away,

while the fast-pace

of events refuse to pause

and you are

swept along

to disaster.