Don't forget

gone

I've always known that I'm not here.

My body is but I'm not.

I can't seem to concentrate on things.

Letters, for example.

When I read sometimes they look like they're  backwards.

Other times they seem to float off the page.

People.

When speaking to me ,in the moment ,I can understand  what the reason of why they communicate with me.

But in a few seconds I forget.

I'm always made at something.

I don't like people.

People know me for being confident.

And I'm kinda happy that some people acknowledge my existence.

But I also don't like it.

When 1 day I try to stay away and just not be the person they know.

They ask me what's wrong.

And I get mad.

For no reason.

I feel like I have something wrong with my head.

But nobody knows.

Only the people reading this.

But they don't know who I really am.

And they most likely never will.

I dream of this book to be known by may people.

But I never could seem to finish a book.

I will try very hard on this book.

But for now.

I must wait.

I must wait for something that's already gone.

My mother.