Wake up to a clawing feel of neglect and disappointment with a tinge of amazement at what used to be created. Wondering if such a mind ever existed and if it has been so short a time. How skills and gifts can be overlooked for what is deemed ‘important’ or ‘relevant’. That a part of you fades away every day.
Wake up with the same feeling, guilt so strong you can’t reminisce on what was before. Even a reminder no matter how painful can be an overwhelming trigger. That the mind that once was will vibrate to life with a quick glance into the dusty box full of gifts once brandished.
Wake up one more time to the ringing in ears that have not heard. The urge that finds other ways to burst forth; however evil the way. The realisation that a gift that once was might just be. Or maybe not. That such a short time can change a person in the most horrifying way. That good things can be lost and forgotten. As bad things thrive and fester.
Wake up with a pounding at the temple. The urge fights to be released. The mind is in disarray. Nothing fits quite right. Something is missing. Something is lost. Something that was once warm and fulfilling has been in comatose. So short but so long that it’s a struggle to resurrect a thing that was deliberately forgotten.