My lips sealed shut with enough superglue to hold my thoughts together-- as if they could be quantified. My fingers taped together to my own horror. I made a pact to myself years ago not to feel a certain way. But it's moments like these that begs for the questions, "has anything changed?" These improvements, the progress that I preach and strive for... while not in vain, have they made a difference?
One step forward, three steps back. Moving to find the qualities that I lack.
The same indifference to anything that makes a difference. The same involuntary reaction to meaningless actions leave me breathless. My last breath is then left for the actions that leave me exhausted. Only then I'll be able to fall asleep.
This doesn't mean shit.
