4.12 AM
My pupils refuse to dilate
The memories come gushing through
Followed by a complete void
A whiteness,
Which kisses and cuddles the entire
Body and mind is anyway gone.
The limbs get frozen
The lips get stuck
The toxic glue of memories,
The OG lamotrigine.
 
5:47 AM
Zip, ka-ching
The phone rings
Serpentine tongue engulfs within
Those white spaces and whitewashes
Them with everyday
Patches, of demolitions
And destructions of your
Monuments within.
 
9 AM
"Memory studies", the notice board read
Red eyes deliberate,
Hands shrink and wrinkle
Is it a nuke attack? You squeal
The historical moments
Let me centralise for you
Forsooth, 'tis gonna help
And rigour, too
T(r)ick!
Your hostels, your festivals
Can be blackened too
Mourning is anyway the new
Resistance.
Acceptance? You try
 
The 9 AM Lamotrigine
And manoeuvre the corridors,
The dead wasp-y grey lift,
"Well, hello Virginia Bennington!
Didn't quite see you there."
I didn't quite understand you,
Said she.
I can't quite see you,
Said she.
I can't quite fathom you,
Said she.
*Sigh*
Oh, mental health?
That happens.