A Returned Sense of Wonder

I awoke with a returned sense of wonder
Ideas to grow, backed by hunger
But I’ve been here before
Maybe who I truly am pulls me back under

To keep me moving on at all,
Once a week, I make plans for twice a day
I know what it is I take
The amounts, the colors, the shapes. 
I know that if I say the names,
I might be revealed.
Some help, others,
I don’t know
Not until I’ve gained the weight.

I go on all the same, 
Learning it day after day,
Trying to remember the lessons,
And forget the memories

Am I a realist,
Or an impressionist, 
When I try to sketch who I am
With this ever changing brain?

So when I wake up with this returned sense of wonder
My mind starts to wander
Is this just another time,
My mind does anything to keep my hope alive?
A new passion to return to from time to time
Reading too much into her reply
Hoping for a quiet mind, by & by
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