“Fracture”

I feel like I’m losing it again.

Jaaaaaack....Jaaaaaaack.

My name. My nickname. They just don’t seem to be right but then again the truth doesn’t either. I don’t hear YOUR voice...her voice...any real voice anymore. I have an ID to remind be but, you know, eyes deceive us.

The finalization of it escapes me.

Can you even remember me? I don’t.

Can you even speak my name? I can’t.

It’s laughable. Sickeningly laughable.

The days are flashes and in them frames of things that aren’t real. Here.

Impossibilities.

It’s all just empty and barely tolerable.

This Cookie crumbles.

Good luck to all of you...the scars are...well, you know, despicable and ugly and so very much ch sickening to the point where when or if you lay your eyes you’ll vomit the worst out of you.

...villainy and virtue...the latter or which is being buried in concrete and silence...I can’t remember your voices or laughter...

I sigh and await the moment when I scream out and take the universe into palpable reality.

Please be sure they’re all protected. As I couldn’t do so. Not in any real way.

I’m no doctor. I simply diagnose what I can calculate.

It’s that simple song I’m missing. That John Denver song...from Covenant. Country road. Take me home.