When did I become the enemy?
When did the curtain I work so tirelessly to tear begin to crush me?
When did the realization of all that I am begin to dull into a pounding ache?
When did I lose control?
When did I ever have control?
When did I become more obsessed with chasing illusions than reality?
When did fantasy's devolve into nightmares?
Oh how we pine.
Strive.
Hope.
Die.
Is this what we were meant for?
Where do you fit into this?
Will I die alone here?
I fear I will.
I am afraid.
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