Misery sticks
to your skin
like the solitary smell
of your family home.

It's a wonder that those
who are so well fed
and so well read
are so full of dread.

With each and every progression
killing a part of the soul,
and each new experience
blurring the form of a whole,
I wonder why advancement
is our one and only goal?

Go on, do it.
Do the deed.
Spread your seed.

The children tell stories of when you bleed.

Mon cherie, c'est l'appel du vide.

A certain momentary sadness; the self-inflicted kind.

Usually kept by the owner to give their negative attitude someone to play with.

Something which would easily pass if you just made an effort, and socialised a bit more.

Anything is possible, if you put your mind to it.

It's only you and your attitude.

Still listening to the same music.

Still writing the same poems with different words.

Still drinking the same drinks,
eating the same foods.

Still wanting to be healthier.

Still wanting to be smarter.

Still wanting to be better.

Still hating the things I hated before;
The things that won't change.

Still not moving,
If so, just barely.

Still here.

Inside the universal set:
Circle A and circle B;
Circle you and circle me.

To keep things easy,
we started with the numbers on the outside,
but soon grew to the small part in the middle.

That small slither
of similarity.
But the numbers are just there for
Clarity.

Not to mention circles
C,D,E & G.

But circles are circles,
and people are people.
You are you.
I am I.
And that was that.