It becomes silent
to where I can only hear
the ringing in my ears.
I am comfortable
to the point where
I feel no longer alive.
There's a burden on
my neck that causes
me to slouch.
And I eat and sleep
throughout the years.
And I add meaning
to the days but they
become contrived.
I try with all my
might to give life a good
fight, but all I do is
panic on my couch.
Over success.