i’m trying to remember you.
trying to think clearly about
the things that are true
trying to remember you
but you.
you don’t try and remember me,
do you?
i’m sitting here trying.
i swear to fucking god i’m trying.
i think i know Leonardo DiCaprio.
i think i know him.
why do i think that?
can you make up memories?
can you make up a fault
can you make up a story
can you make up a cult?
well you can do the last part
it just rhymed.
well
hell.
i know Leo.
and you know me.
so let’s just end this
positively.
you can’t make up stories that don’t exist already
how do i know that?
because i feel abuse
when someone tells me i lie.
because i feel abused
by everyone who’s allowed to be in my life.
i know i’m not safe here.
i know the people i know are wrong for me.
i know that all my memories are stolen
and given to idiots
who aren’t me.
i know that i will be okay one day.
walking on sunshine
the wind in my hair
and the sand at my feet
and i’ll say
hey Leonardo,
is it okay that we meet?
(again)
