This is the reality I have created for myself
This is the emptiness I allow myself to feel
This is the shell that hosts passing, hollow emotions.
These are the hands that are useless in this world
These are the feet that will never truly dance
These are lungs that have ceased to catch breath for the beauty of the world
I go. I go. I keep going.
There is not much left but to go.
Numb, I move forward, but no distance passes beneath my feet.
I want something more, something better
The memory of true feeling haunts me
But it is all beyond my reach.
And the voice tells me to just deal with it.