The Search

I searched everywhere; over and over again…
Until I found myself looking in places that didn’t make any sense.
It can’t even fit there. Why would I put it here?
Did I not believe my eyes anymore? What about my mind?
Is some part of me is playing a joke on me?
My mind is trailing off again. I’m sure it’s here somewhere.

I put it right here, in this drawer.
It was right here. And no one else was here since.
I searched that drawer again. But nothing.
Maybe it was a different drawer.
No, this one.
Wait. Is that it over there? There on the floor…
No, this is just a blank piece of paper.
I flipped it back and forth.
It was blank.
This wasn’t that piece of paper.

Maybe I never even wrote it down.
Maybe I just thought about moving around.
Maybe the entire memory is just a thought.
Did it never even happen?
I’m thinking too much. I need to stop.
If I could just remember what I wrote; then I wouldn’t need it.
But that makes no sense.
If I could remember then I wouldn’t have needed to write it down.
Thinking too much again.

I crumpled up that blank page.
I threw it in the trash.
It doesn’t matter anymore.
Without a care, that’s the end of that.


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