i stay out of it more than i used to,
painting pictures on a metaphorical canvas.
anything is possible if i want to
find something that catches on,
leave everything else that matters
and turn away from it all.

i have great conversations with myself,
drawing memories like a string to wrap and tighten.
i live and die keeping it to myself
with every thought that spills through
like gasoline, begging for a lighter.
i stay out of it more than i used to.

I keep a ciggerate in my pocket
Even though I quit a long time ago
It's half smoked
I **** on the filter whenever something happens to get my nerve
It's somewhat like a relic from the past
That haunts me

what the **** is happening to me? I am losing myself again and this time I cannot even blame anyone because no one is at fault here, it's me and my mind.
Am I depressed? 
Am I mad?
what is this?
How can I figure what is going on with me?
what is this feeling?
I am not missing anyone, I am not talking to anyone, I am doing nothing which can mess with my head, maybe it's the nothing which is making me mad or maybe I was never okay?
Maybe I was just distracted from the reality and was living in delusion?
maybe my mind is still the same? 

I want to figure this out before it's too late or maybe it is too late? what am I even talking about?

I lose myself in spectral alternatives
Of an uncertain and nonexistent future.
Tormented by inconsistent thoughts,
By inconsistent perspectives
And in the countless possibilities of the horizon.

A feeling that accelerates the chest,
At times paralyzing and tormenting,
Moving in disharmonious rhythms,
Expelling an unmeasured air
From a gasping breath.

I cling to the present
That runs and does not forgive,
Thrives and insists,
Being the only one that resists,
To the past and to the future.

I am safe, no matter what my anxiety tells me :)