Frost curdles as I wander by, lost is the real word for being forgotten.
I skim the trees as they cha, cha in the withering cold. Fingers are forgotten.
Legs scream for me to cease in the wake of bitterness, but legs are forgotten.
Mind in my body drifts away from within myself, parting for a very long far well. Forgotten forever.
Lies swirl around every bone, trying to take control, but I had forgotten to forget, lost what was already lost, held to nothing but the whistle of what was left of a breeze clinging to my red swollen ears. Forgotten, forgotten, forgotten. Living my dream.
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