goldfish memory

confusion and disorientation settling in just fine

the longtime-no-see friends down for the weekend

the ability to determine dreams from memories fading

standing barefoot in the kitchen, searching for reasons

getting lost in the bedroom, forgetting what was needed

pen to paper scrabbling thoughts that seem important

it can’t just get up and walk away, i think, can it?

an epic search and rescue to find the philosophy

and answers to life’s most serious of all questions

pulled from the freezer, becoming engulfed in fear

the humiliation of possibilities and probabilities rising

the struggle to recall the mundane, common language

days and nights slide into each other forming time warps

so easily overwhelmed with sensory invasions and fear

tears falling like rain without comprehension of why

anger, helplessness, pride, defeat playing maestro

there is nothing promised, no compromise on the table

the brain is a magic eight ball spewing random prophecy

“magic 8 ball, is there hope?” shaking vigorously

liquid splashes finding the correct answer to the wrong question

“better not tell you now” the reply so sought after

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