lost times
Seconds, hours, days, weeks. Vanishedly vanquished. Words spoken of craziness and derision, mentioned in passing, scared of starting and finishing and confused in lasting.
A past version. Unsure of the new. Unsure exactly how and where and what and why, and not liking the change. if i am no longer me, where did i go?
Conversation in fits and starts. sheer confusion. I turn my eyes to the sky and watch a treebranch dance shadows across the london sunset. Bit closer. Nearly there. Starting to think that i left too much up there, floating on a cloud. Never to return. Who are these people? they are in turn asking who i am. Nervously quiet. Music in the head. No longer a piece of the puzzle. Just a puzzle.
the lost time passes without memory. the memory lost passes without time.
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