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Another day has disappeared,
this week: hallucination
and of the many months I’ve lost,
I dare not even speak
and of the years,
now lost to me,
where have they gone?
they hang around my sleepless eyes,
and in my creaking joints
I try to grasp the memory
of what happened in the past
pointless, without meaning,
I wish I never asked
for when I look into my past,
a wave of apathy,
haze, and distortion,
but that’s foresight to me.