These self-effacing fantasies have me writing eulogies in the sand. Not sure what it is you want me to do.

The fire extinguished and now I'm coughing up ashes. Downer.

Frustration. What is it to want? What is it I stopped believing in?

Cold heart.

Trust nothing.

No thing.

No.

Negation, I'm sick of lying.

Passport.

Telemarketing dreams. No futures. Silence. Still. Remain. Relaxed.

Trouble breathing. Trouble beating.

Troubled.

He never came back.

I can't even hate you anymore.

Fine line.

Turmoil. Disassociated.

Stop getting where you want to get. Stop desiring. Learn to

Way to

emerge.