Why do you keep telling me this?Stop. I know this already,
you do not need to continue.
I’m going to stop listening know, thanks.
Wait, maybe we should talk.
I’m going to ask you some stupid questions
because I need to remember.
I’m consumed with one thing and before you know it
I’m off to the next.
Start at the beginning.
Pretend I don’t know anything about this subject.
I’ve already forgotten your name.
Don’t cry, I know it’s agonizing.
You don’t need to remind me that I forget all too easily.
I end up falling asleep with my friends in the garden.
And those years in the desert,
well, they mean nothing to me.
Do we even know what we’re talking about?
How did we get here in the first place?
Sometimes I feel like I’m in a movie and people are staring at me, eating popcorn.
What’s your story?
Do you even know how it begins?
If you have ever seen a dog chasing it’s tale over and over again
then you know how I feel.
What is the point?

Tags:arthateidealsmemoryPoetryproseversewar