Pan Thoughts

A brief smell of something that reminds of a bad memory or event can almost send me to tears. 

Can’t focus, mind’s going too fast, I’m going too fast. Yet I’m still here, sitting still, doing nothing. Mind is not yet in another universe, but traveling to so. Going in hyperdrive, warpspeed, watching the stars blur by, the days blur by, the people blur by. 

The words squirm, beg, and tries to claw their way out of my throat and into my mouth. They almost make it, but they get jumbled and twisted in knots once they hit my tongue. They form into only two words, those thoughts, those words to: “I’m sorry.” 

Let’s runaway, let’s leave this town, can we see the world? Can I leave myself behind and become someone else?