Not looking forward to looking back. Not looking forward -- Start to retract.
thoughts are cyclic
The creeping sedative Numbing every sanctum. The Gray comes like a stroke With unstoppable momentum.
behavior becomes translucent
Leaking feelings do not return Leaving only those without yearning. Better yet, desire goes out completely Leaving a shell - shattered – empty.
emotional apathy
The pieces don’t fit together any more. The more you try, the more disfigured they become -- And so the ink begins to run On a page, which never sees the sun.
social withdrawal
Four walls with no doors, no windows. Secluded amongst others who are sane. Accompanied by a consciousness so malicious, Every effort is made in vain.
dissolution
Black and White meet. The Gray is an admission… An admission of defeat. An admission of defeat.