Concealed by disregard.
Informal obligations of stagnant occurrences.
Intelligence of no use, no form, no will to inform.
Disastrous conclusions, assumptions, judgements.
Sleeping and sleepless.
Longing for more.
Yet, the will has been killed.

Lying wide awake, questioning the defences I hold onto like a loose thread of potent forces.
Exacted to not be exact.
The mind is busy, the body is not.
The soul is in hibernation, the eyes flicker and flip like a thousand broken light bulbs.
I intend on not grabbing, not fighting, and not limiting.
Limitless in a world of limited.
How do I get out?