Maybe there’s a method to his madness
A growing brain function
A reason for repetition
I’ll think and think and spill and boil.
I can do it. I can rebuild, remake, retell.
You’ll understand. I just need to keep going.
Keep talking, keep spilling, keep typing,
keep waiting until you notice.
The twitches and darting eyes may have a point
When will the world see him for who he is
A mess, a wreck
You said you would love him
You said you’d love all
I can be someone, be something
Live to my potential. The more I do the more they’ll see
The more of me I can leave
Genius, Mozart, Artist, Generational
Where did history go?
I seem to be wrapped in film and fragments.
He’s leaving, You must say good bye
He won’t remember to
He won’t remember you
He’ll be typing, aching, drawing
Recognition, love and attention
Three simple things he wasn’t given
Until you let him go
You’ll see You’ll see You’ll see You’ll see You’ll see You’ll see You’ll see You’ll see