wasting away.
i feel as though my life has become slave to routine,
the unsteady thump thump of lifes heartbeat,
has taken over my own.
i am burning from the inside,
whats left of my soul aflame.
i hope that it amounts to something.
there wasnt much left to begin with,
the breaking of my heart, no matter how severe,
could never compare to the destruction of my soul.
even though now its all a nightmare.
i am a ghost of myself,
an impostor,
a puppet on the string of another.
what happened to me? where did i go?
perhaps i am hiding in the land of the sleeping,
the place we go when our bodies are no longer ours.
i hope i am happy there.
or maybe this is the land of the sleeping,
it certainly seems like so.
perhaps one day i will finally wake up and this dream will be just that,
a dream.
when did life become the enemy?
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