I’m unsure of every movement, every
Touch.

Every mark on your body is timed perfectly,
Permanent,
Never wrong,
Never fading.

The bad tattoo
Of
Memories.

Every moment we’re apart I forget a little more,
I suppress, I escape, I fail to remember what you felt like.
I feel a little less for you and
For a little while,
It helps.
But I miss it, I miss feeling so secure,
So resolute.

The lack of sensation is what we’re aiming for,
It matters more than anything.

I waste my time sleeping this off.
I waste away the day, and
The nights can’t mean as much to me, not now.
I sleep and I yearn and I wait
For this to pass.
I’m beginning to fear this world,
The world where the drugs go
Wrong.