Days upon days, I lie restless on the ground. That ground, so inviting, becomes a part of me. I don't want to be exposed, I want to enjoy the ataraxy of being just another contribution to the scum of the earth. I don't want to continue making decisions, choosing and pondering, thinking and wondering. Down here, it's almost as if I lost nothing.
Alas, I struggle to stand up. I brush the dirt and grime off of my clothes. I dread having to leave that ground. I walk towards the door, go inside, and smile to everyone because I don't want to.
Alas, I struggle to stand up. I brush the dirt and grime off of my clothes. I dread having to leave that ground. I walk towards the door, go inside, and smile to everyone because I don't want to.
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