I seem to be reading,
Words. Woes.

I seem to be breathing.
Inhale. Exhale.

I seem to be walking.
Left. Right.

I seem to be living.
Wake. Sleep.

I seem to be living....

I want to be living.
I'm fading.

Cold hands.
Cadavers all around.
We're zombies,
Pushing daises.

Monotony kills us all,
We try to find excitement in the mundane.

Yawn,
Is it morning already?
Did we sleep?

Wake. Eat. Drive.
Work.
We're machines pretending to think.

Alive only in words,
In love only in practice.
We're plants potted.
Pensive.

Always in pain.
Always...
Alone.