Random Memory – a poem about…….

My mind isn’t what it used to be.
Well, of course, it isn’t.
For it has experienced so much during my life, that it’s impossible to collate every piece of information processed.
It has stored every thought created which in turn prompted action and or, reaction.
Many of the actions processed and acted upon were surely flawed.
Because, why would I willingly have done some of the things I did?
Knowing that they would bring me so much pain before leading me to dance with the Devil under the moonlight whilst he takes my soul.
Then, I fall ungracefully to my knees, begging for every moment of horror to end quickly, so that I do not have to focus on the impurity of my existence.
I know that I am screwed.
I know that my brain doesn’t work the way it should do and could really benefit from being reprogrammed.
These new tablets prescribed by my ignorant GP are meant to help me,
by drowning out the overexcited cognitive functions in my brain before rendering me sedate.
Then, maybe I will be calm.
Perhaps, I will be free from the overelaborate processing of my minds need to dissect the random memory, that needs to keep on churning out fact after fact and words placed on top of others.
It needs to share what it knows before it becomes redundant,
to the point where I no longer recall anything and sit staring upwards to the sky,
wondering what it was I once knew.
Medication may help me to hold on to something I have?
Ironically, I think it’s only served to destroy what I once had.

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