I thought I was.
Sure, the separated interactions remain.
Merely a work in progress.
Outside my own actions remain quiet
Courteous.
No more feelings of nonexistence.
Stepped outside of the fence
Prematurely erected out of anxiety.
Nevertheless my steps are as careful
As they have ever been.
Regardless of what strides made
My face carries the same expression.
My eyes carry on intently at a distance.
The end of the day sees
The Same. Rhythmic. Insanity.