I'm losing it all through no fault of my own,
Yet
I feel guilty.
Such a strange occurance indeed, to fall out of obsession.
It wasn't gradual, in fact quite the opposite.
The taste of melancholy in every word as you blink back the tears and I, the numbness.
So what's it to be?
For all the care I once had is slipping,
Gripping as a child does to water,
It falls through...just like us.
Collapses in on itself.
A petty construction once deemed strong.
It breaks.
And it seems I'm standing here staring,
Having no need to blink any longer.
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 11:25 AM UTC
I'm losing it all through no fault of my own,
Yet
I feel guilty.
Such a strange occurance indeed, to fall out of obsession.
It wasn't gradual, in fact quite the opposite.
The taste of melancholy in every word as you blink back the tears and I, the numbness.
So what's it to be?
For all the care I once had is slipping,
Gripping as a child does to water,
It falls through...just like us.
Collapses in on itself.
A petty construction once deemed strong.
It breaks.
And it seems I'm standing here staring,
Having no need to blink any longer.