they tell me, numbness is a blessing.
words, nothing can be put into words. i have nothing to truthfully tell.
i constantly evaluate situations and formulate the appropriate emotion to feel.
days are passing, people are changing but i'm still here, planted into the ground.
in need of a constant reminder that the world is still spinning.
sometimes i try actually create thoughts and sincerity. it's really hard.
as soon i do, it disappears... evaporates, as if my subconsciousness refuses to coexist with the warmth of mortality.
i can not feel, therefore, death cannot awaken me.
only as a breathing obligation i'll cease to exist among people like you.
this is what i've become and you can't hurt me anymore, father.
