And I hear the words, leaving your lips, but the way they quivered wasn’t quite the same. They weren’t your words, just clever lines, from some book, or some movie. I keep telling myself that it wasn't real. But I feel it, every fucking day.
And the world swirls towards death unimpeded, death unimpeded its promise too soon. Maybe I should take some time, set things right, maybe I should live through these days of strife. Because we are not our failures, friends, family or that loneliness. I know it’s pervasive, I know it’s persuasive, but don’t let it take a hold of you.
Oh here they come again, these thoughts unending. And these sheets are a web, a tangle, a trap. I won’t accept this unending daze, unauthentic, unrealistic, lethargic. Don’t let them take a hold of me.