Though It's Not Clear to Me, Every Season Has Its Change.
I don't know how to describe how I am feeling.
Nothing at all really, nothing really at all.
Just numb, just existent.
Just existing like most of us are, most of the time.
Neither helping or hindering.
Thoughtful without thinking.
Action without asserting.
Speaking without really saying anything at all.
Gliding through the motions.
Just existing, like most of us are, most of the time.
Contentment?
Not where I'm standing.
Note to Self:
Overanalyzing, I think I do it too much.
Way too much.
I'm still recalling things you said to make me feel alright
I carried them with me today