what is going on in this one hell of a disaster? your synapses are scattered all over the place, thoughts shrouded in the shadows of dark clouds; everyday a rainy parade wrecks havoc and blow things out of proportion.
i want to make sense of it, too.
when did your mind palace crumble and fall apart – how long exactly has it been? do you remember?
i’ve lost count of the days i thought were numbered.
who did this to you? someone so ruthlessly cruel, chaotic.
(tell me, i will make sure that they are gone)
im afraid that someone whom you’re referring to is not who you think it is.
where has it occurred?
everywhere. along school corridors, under the shower head, beneath the covers, in a suffocating room filled with chatter and laughter – each time feels like leaning precariously over the edge.
how are you going to build this back up?
i don’t know; i guess we’ll wait for the storm to pass and venture to pick the remnants up, muttering a silent prayer for it to to never turn.
PROMPT: write a poem which asks all the questions to which you urgently need answers.
a/n: i realized i didn’t write the prompt properly but oh well