i'm feeling it the drift a wedge i'm draining no one hears it, an empty void pure desolate silence i don't want to stay “nobody cares” so why should i? the idiosyncratic facade fazing everyone compressing everything within yet i feel so hollow
I sit alone on the floor, the light blinks in and out. ...or perhaps it is my eyes? that I cast now over leftwards to look at the doorway. Empty, as it always is, or is now? as it should be.
I feel as though I am floating, no, I am grounded now. Chained here to the floor. My body lays like bones in the ground, unmoving and crushed by dirt. heavy and cloying, the smell of earth. worms dig under my skin, wriggling parasites in my skull.
Am I decaying? like I once wished. my thoughts like rot, what else... but to deteriorate into darkness. My body lays on the floor, a useless cadaver as it always was. I am strung to it by some means, my ghost lingering on the dead. Have I not moved on yet?