turnstile

I don't know if it's possible to dive further inside of myself.

At least you tried to let me off easy.

Numerous paranoid fantasies come to mind but I can't allow myself to care too much anymore. Everytime I tried to give my all you struggled and now you've done it for the last time. Like some fool that just attended a self-help seminar, I declare that I have so much to give but I want something dependable and steady. I want to be sure and I want you to be sure.

But you're not.

I can't live like this anymore. I've even surprised myself. My spring flows eternal, apparently. How? Maybe the pain just doesn't faze me anymore. This is life.