LOSING IT

They tell me that I’m crazy

That I’m ’losing it,' that I lost my marbles

But I know that isn’t true

They are in a jar on my bookcase

In my room, at home.

I’ve always been afraid

Of not remembering

Names, memories, and places where I have been

Or going to; or where I am right now.

Where did my dreams go? My hopes?

I’m afraid to go outside

Afraid that a raindrop might wash me away

That the wind will set me adrift

And any ideas that may exist in my consciousness

Will be purged from me.

I am no longer able to differentiate

Between moonlight and sunlight

Clouds appear as ghosts that haunt my saneness

I tremble when I see the stars

Believing that they are eyes in the sky.

Buried in my grey fissures

Thoughts are spinning, swirling, meandering

Winding through gates of scattered concepts

Burying paths that lead to awareness.

Fragments of memories are wispy

They grab at me but do not linger

Ideas go dormant

Erased as quick as a breath.

Lapses in memories are my companions

That I cannot escape from.

I am a victim of memory loss

One who lingers in a limbo of forgetfulness

Trapped in a mind without any direction

Whirling around like a pinwheel

In gale-force winds.

Dear Reader,

Will you help me find my lost mind?

For if it is found

I won’t be crazy anymore.

Please?