Poetry, One-Shots, and Song Lyrics

Memory Patrol

I keep it hypothetical; intangible at best, because I make my worst decisions when my head decides to rest.

Some drown out with cigarettes, or cannabis, or piruoettes, gratuitous attempts at saving convos that she'll soon forget - and that's what you don't get - I'm not completed yet, I'm undeveloped, nearly quasimodal in my head. Social synapses are dead, I've questioned blades or eating lead, but at this point, my limbs and joints have made their minds up, I'm on edge, I pledge Allegiance to the United States of Silence.

The ones who wait for moves to make but never seem to try them; live for 'maybe's, only speak when spoken to, it's tiring.

Then she asks me "Why are you so awkward?" - and it's past a charming quirky shtick, more an assemblage of crying, hiding, left out, stuck with nervous tics, and she asks me again. She asks me twenty times, but now we're only friends, and looking at the way I act, I'll surely understand, because holding on is easy but I'm too scared of holding hands. Don't question if you walk by and I spare a passing glance, because some people cross my mind and when we meet eyes I'm holding hands and holding notebooks in my room and on my phone beneath the stars, I've been to see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars; and it's breathtaking. At least, I think so, anyway, because my memories have faded, and only regrets and things remain - but that's the same. I've found comfort in my brain; and one day I'll find my donut, and the scars will surely fade. I can sit here, overthink, about the thoughts inside my head, but I know if I don't push myself, I'll surely end up dead.