I feel lost to the sky. All my words taste like shit. For me this is leaps and bounds. The world sees baby-steps. I don’t know if I can feel anything of value. I don’t know that there’s value left within me. Alone, so alone and afraid to fail. Truly a failure already, I feel my moment has past. I wasn’t born in the wrong era, I’m just late in realization of my piss-poor ability to adapt. Is it too late to be something else?
I’m stifled. My voice is mute. I can say nothing until the time comes and then the scrutiny of reality will set its gaze upon me. I sold my soul, how naive I was to believe there’d be no me without it.