Great times of dementia
A foggy thought detaches from my foggy mind,
curls into a foggy string and foggily die in a foggy shame.
Are my thoughts gone forever?
Or are they hanging in midair over my head,
waiting to reappear in great times of dementia?
I can’t wait for dementia. I’ll probably be very happy when I’ll completely lose it.
The way there, though… The horrific marble brick road :/