A mind that forgets,
A thought that rekindles,
Inflames, provocative and insulting memories.
Acting as the catalyst to the impending doom that awaits.
At the climax of the dark idea,
I lose the clearness and become engulfed in question:
“Why is this me?”
“Who am I?”
“Why am I, I?”
These thoughts that I so philosophically find the answers to,
leave me in a bitter sickening altitude.
Why am I here…
This reflection may be of the past,
but as of now does not represent the soul inside.
I pity the girl I see.
Why is she me?
Why am I, I?