Getting high and washing away your existential crisis's away with darkness that floods into your head pulling the memories like the moon during high tide away from your consciousness. I am standing there somewhere awash the confused thoughts and discontinued dreams wondering if my name tastes the same hers somewhere far away from the time that we used to spend sitting around doing nothing. Crumpled like the aspirations written on papers crunched tight smeared black from holding too close.
You were never real to me, now I to you. Out of sight out of mind, fading like the last rays of dusk on of the full moon as you wash away from me.
