My torture of a worthless body continues, I go on, night after night, creating more permanent memories, permanent scars. As a mind, tired and wired, silently dies and leaves a soul. A soul black like rooftops covered in city smog, being choked by the fumes of my own polluted thoughts. And I can practically feel myself disintegrating, my defenses falling, my strength weakening. All the prisons I had built in my heart, to lock up emotions that I never want to feel, turn to sand and my feelings walk free and trample everything in their path. And now I have nothing left to fight with, and Iâ€™m losing the will to try. I know if I keep looking, I can still find the reasons I need to push forward, but to be honest, Iâ€™m sick of having to find them. Iâ€™m so drained of inspiration and hope, and you just know that if you run at me now, Iâ€™m not gonna put up a fight. I wont turn and run, I wont lash out like I used to do, because it doesnâ€™t change anything. I could guide your hand to my face with each punch you succeed in landing on me for all the difference it makes... Is that why youâ€™ve stopped fighting as well? Because you too are jaded and lacking hope and inspiration. Then how about we sit down on the baron landscape together, and raise our hands and faces to the sky in a surrender, and chose to finish this battle on our own terms. Because my body and my mind are losing faith in everything around them, and I need this to stop before I start losing my faith in you.
*...All the possibility and promise just weighs on me so heavily...*