Rewind and reconstitute everything and nothing- reframing all the remembering left un-recollected; all the people places things abandoned left imagining what was and what is and what will be.
What will become of what has been left to list listless into the eroding shape of time- who will be left and what will be said of them? What do you remember beyond the vague flashes sound tracked solipsisticly simplified as you crumple and condense and hide all the letters and pictures that you are not strong enough to recover?
What do you learn and what do you love and what do you lose? At the end of the day what are you left with and do these have any bearing on your being or do you move like smoke on the wind drifting touching everything and nothing leaving behind your stench of ash and some vaguely muddled memory?
How much does your love weigh and have you ever once carried it to term before aborting all affection; refusing to pay attention to your own faults and failings- wailing assailing every lover who could love you as if they were the same as who had left you; forgetting how rarely you were the left instead the leaving seizing upon every injustice incurred and recurred perceiving everything this way eventually.
Even knowing as you know how your victim to villain ratio leaves much to be desired still somehow mired in this self-pity missing the point meandering down the same paths endlessly.
