You ask me not to struggle,
"it will all be okay."
You aren't in my head,
running the third marathon
I've run today in record time.
No, you have moved on
to the next task
while I wonder
if the blackboard 
will ever get erased.
All those words, and sighs,
and trampled dreams,
and ripped apart moments,
yes, those are what I notice.
Overwritten and crowded 
into a small view, 
I only see so much now.
Jumbled words edited 
so much they've lost their
original meaning
and now are saturated 
with what I deem them to mean,
even if you tell me it's not true.
It's okay it all went to hell, right?
Maybe it is.
Because I can erase 
what I don't want and 
start fresh - a clean slate.
Nothing is stopping me 
from getting rid of what
was scribed for me before.
It might take some time
but my story is about
to be rewritten.