Fragments

Fragments of sentences. Unfinished thoughts. Losing articulation. Reality blurs into shadows. Figments of my imagination. They are more real than tangible objects. Am'thyst is dead and no one cares. No one "gets" it. I can't communicate. Random words escape my mouth. Puzzled looks; the only reply. Questions. Then more questions. I cannot answer questions. There is no cure. My brain deteriorates daily. No one understands. Doctors want to shock me. Make me a zombie. Living dead. I'm already there. My family mourns my death. I sit across from them; tears well up in their eyes. I am dead. They see living flesh. They expect me to speak. They expect me to live. They expect me to feel. But I am dead. No one understands. I can't communicate. Only fragments. Fragmented mind. Fragmented speech. Fragmented life. Nothing connects. Nothing makes sense. Emotions are dull. I cannot feel. I want to run away. Stop hurting the people I love. I'm already dead. They already mourn. Better to disappear. Then they can heal. Then I won't hurt them. Time. Everything will be ok. Better. The best I can do. Trying to explain. Nothing makes sense. The world is ending. I am dead. I cannot explain. Understand me.