i don’t remember much

I don’t remember much,

But the way you ripped me apart keeps me up.

I’m still picking up the shards, trying to figure out which ones fit together.

I’ve had to let loose this year.

Let go even more.

I knew that when I lost one, some would go down with them.

But I didn’t know I would lose so much more.

I thought new sprouts would take the place of the old ones.

That’s just how the life cycle works, right?

Wrong.

I sow the seeds and reap nothing in return.

And so I created a void of my own.

A safe space I thought I knew,

But it was one far from who I was.

I used to be fun,

Full of unexpected layers to deconstruct.

Now I live on a planet far from the rest,

A planet I regret creating.

I say I can’t live without music,

But when did music become an excuse?

I live drowned by noise.

It’s constant noise, noise, noise—noise is all that fills my day.

I don’t think I truly remember what silence sounds like.

Noise has been so normal, the only way I knew to shush the negative.

But the little angel voice within me I know I neglect,

For it knows not how to flutter its wings through soundwaves so big.

I’ve been so focused on suppressing and not surpassing.

I do not know how to escape this little planet of mine, one that I’ve called home for as long as I can remember.

Whenever I escape my space, I feel like I’m floating in a abyss of unfamiliarity.

It makes my body jitter.

So I guess I don’t remember much, but maybe I do know where it all began.