Dependency. A cruel fate for a young millennial.
In this country, karma means nothing
Ethics are fiction, as I've found out.
Relying on the manipulative rich man.
He's different for everyone.
Where do you get your checks from?

The Silhouetted buildings peak
through the clouds, obscured
across the river, a city shivers
on a cold New York morning.

When you look at the body,
        you can see his work.

And when you investigate your own work,
                you should see his work.

And if you can see nothing else,
                        in the kindness, see worth.

And when you see the next failure,
                                 see him quietly at work.

Because we have no room for ego next to him.
                                         And nothing is small enough to stand beside.

From the soul backed to the precipice of a life never changing,
Through the crest of an almond shape and cascading over an apple fullness,
Fall the tiny tributes of hopelessness;
Until she is offered
Tulips for her tears.

Okay, let's be profound for a second, let's be cheesy, sappy, gross or whatever you want to call it for just a second. Because it's better to have it out there then to bottle it all up inside of yourself.

Do you feel?
I try to, in the shower. I attempt to feel something, anything, so I take off my glasses, and I turn the water temperature to boiling. And I just stand there, hot water streaming down my back, trying to feel something. I guess I do, I feel the heat radiating off my back, I feel the cold when I step away. But I don't feel.  
When I take off my glasses, all I can see are blobs of color, sometimes I prefer that to the world I see through my glasses, here, everything is whatever you want it to be, you can see a mixture of blues and reds and you don't have to just assume it's a balled up sheet. It can be anything you want it to be.
So when I take off my glasses in the shower I hope to be transported to this realm, but I don't. I stay, where the walls are white and shampoo bottles line the shelves. I stay in the place where I can't have creativity, where I don't  feel like anything.
Do you ever think to yourself, I exist, try it sometime. I acknowledge that I exist as a person, I exist, but for what purpose? Will you find that purpose with another human being? With an animal? With a job? Who knows. I just hope that I find mine soon. Because standing in the shower, hot water pouring down onto my body, I think of this, I think, is this what I'm supposed to be doing? Is this what I'm meant to be? Someone who tries desperately to cling onto people, someone who hates sharing her friends because I am scared they will run away, someone who can't trust her best friend not to leave just like the other ones who stole the label best friend has. Someone who doesn't think she is good enough for anyone.
Since I can't feel anything don't you think that I should be a thrill seeker, I'm the absolute opposite, I've tried stuff like that before, it doesn't help, it just makes people worry, makes people judge, I don't like that. The only time I think I feel something is when I'm in the shower or reading. Reading is my escape, I go into someone else, I see what they see I finally feel. People think it is weird that I don't think when I read. It's because I Feel when I read.
I don't enjoy reading in between the lines while enjoying a good book, I Like to just go with what the author is attempting to get across. When I do this, I feel something. Even if it's a fake rush of adrenaline, or anxiety because of something a character did in a book. I still feel something.
Do you feel?
I try to, in the shower.