Re-route repetition into a resvoir.

    Where do you go at night, after everyone closest to you falls asleep? Though you try to mask it, and you do, very well, someone hears you creep. There’s no need to play a guessing game, when one of us could simply speak the truth. But, oh, in these days, it seems to be no use.

    I know where I go out, after night, into the early morning electric lights. I go and do things that I’d rather not ever speak of. Do we have anything in common, enough even to know each others names, and maybe after a while play games, until we have enough?  We could be honest, in hopes of hearing, in return, truth. But, these days, it seems to be no use.

    So, I’m cataloging entries of the times I’ve devastated things, in hopes of using it in the future to save myself from sooner, aching endings. Next to the logs, should be their pictures.

    You are in my memory scrapbook, you might have a page, or so, discussing why you decide to stay, or more often, to go.  No, one but you knows, and the people you say you’re with. But, it can be heard over the telephone; you, choking down your breath.

    I was unconscious, so, the goodbyes sank in way too late, for me to try to save what had nothing left to save. I only said the truest things, from a selfish point of view. So, please let me wake to say goodbye to you. When you’re gone, only God knows, but I can guess a few reasons why you go, and up till now, have never stayed. I can only wonder what you do, from my comatose state.

    Now, like every sad case, someone is left alone in the dark, trying to get some sleep, while trying to forget how foolish they could be. I know I’ve been there, in that dark. Have you? Tell the truth. Is me saying that even serving any use? Just, try to forget, while learning.  Close eyes and rest head every time, just breathe and think…and give it a little time.

    So, I cataloged entries, in increments of memories from time, with the hopes of saving my future mind.  What will you do?