burns

smoke twirls around this head and i have forgotten how to write. how to think. no. i remember how to think. responding is the problem. how does one respond to a mind that is convinced that this is a dream. living in a dream that will not make sense until it is finished. in the end. aren't we all just a little pawn in a magnificent game of chess. just playing. watching. making each move with too little or too much thought put into it. until. check. our hourglass is spilling the last few grains of rice. checkmate. we decay. our thoughtful minds are rotting. cells once alive with love happiness and inspiration are motionless and without hope.