I'm dissolving.
To precious things I'm indifferent.
Nothing seems too pressing.
Value must have lost it's place.
Textures, sights, smells, and sounds elicit no response.
My pulse has shied away,
that thumping beat no longer responds to what I've loved
Even sadness is an arms-length away
I'm vacant.
I don't know where I went, or for what cause,
I hope to return soon,
I wonder what stories I'll have to share.
I'm waiting.
Mindlessly and without passion
I must move forward
with the blind hope that I will return.
I have to do this for tomorrow's me.
I'll chase relentlessly
but it's hard to move in this lifeless world.
If I stop for a moment,
the further I'll find myself from where I am
I have to lift these weak bones,
to do things that are hard.
I promised myself that I will return.
Just give me some time I would say,
I'll follow through,
I will return to me.
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