sjsprWriting

Eyes wide and bloodshot, hair untaimed, breathing ragged,

She shoots up from her bed,

Panic making her chest heave

Everything is...meaningless…

Nobody will remember her

Or her family

Everything will eventually be a memory

Until enough time has passed

That memories don’t even exist

She slows her breaths,

Each of which sucks bits of her soul back into her body,

And sets her mind at ease

She exists. She lives.

…for now.

That is all that matters.

When death comes

She will go willingly

Knowing that she won’t have

                                                     A mind,

                                                                  Or a memory,

                                                                                           that will let her

mourn.