Just forget me
I am not me anymore, anyway.
You looked happy there.
Forget me; you already have.
It was fun, we shared some memories.
Now the new me can no longer make new ones
I will just keep replaying the old ones as I stumble along,
Occasionally I will pick up speed.
I will think I am out of the dark, finally, this is happy, only to fall back down this tunnel of memories I have created for myself when I get too frightened to face the day.
But, wait, is that true?
Can I really not make new memories?
No; that is a fat lie that we keep telling ourselves to justify you never having the time, never inviting me out to create memories.
It is all just a lie.
You are sick and tired of being sure that I am not having a moment.
Always making sure, checking, walking on eggshells.