melted

i say[,] hello[,] to everyone.

i won't be around for long.

it's nice to meet you!

i'm a poem, maybe.

i suppose, maybe not, actually, definitely not.

i'm nothing really. i'm nothing, really. i'm nothing... really.

it's funny, actually.

i started this chapter with the intentions of writing a poem.

i guess sometimes intentions are skewed,

it's skewered and butchered (reverse that, it's insensible.)

it's the other way around. it's the other way, around. it's the... other way, around.

i am a line with a dot atop it.

i is a line with a dot atop it.

i can't tell which is true.

is it one? both? neither? i wish i knew.

inside my mind lies fear. inside my mind lies, fear. inside, my mind lies, fear.

i know i'm going to delete this.

if, no, when i do,

i don't want you to worry.

i want you to say, "oh."

i want you to move along.

i guess what i'm trying to say,

i'm not saying anything.

i haven't been saying much lately.

it's been harder and harder to respond,

in real life, inside, double time, every time.

it's been so confusing lately.

i can't say tough, i can only say confusing.

i'm not enough. i'm not, enough.

i'm not enough (but maybe someone else is)