i'm in this compromise
with reality
where feeling relieved
but still mildly uncomfortable
still translates into good. fine.
i don't know what else to say.
the itch is gone
but i still have the urge to scratch.
the people are disappearing
slowly from my dreams
and there's a voice in here that notices this
but it's buried so deep and far away
i hardly care.
and they hardly care.
i can tell.
okay but small
is how it is
if anyone wanted to know.
can't complain
but
can't feel the sun.
if anyone is even listening
everything feels like nothing.