Let the mind get lost in traps
find new ways to fight back
as memories degrade and collapse
reclined on the backs of warmer days

Navigating those labyrinthine paths
hidden behind all those well-worn masks
that have long been unrecognizable
amongst the moments masked by confused vitriol

The thoughts that remain are like loose balloons
escaped to the skies from a once crowded room
through a window opened long ago
when there was room for air and levity

But now there is so few balloons left afloat
your identity reduced to a scrawled note
“I that was and am shall be again
nothing of note is new, make room for the past.”