“Tiresome Hold”

It’s just as heavy as it used to be. Lung fill with the fluorescent clear life and stay sunken, full of what feels like the densest liquid desperately trying to drown me. That’s the wieght of life. So I breath in, try to exhale it all and look forward.

I have to concentrate a lot harder on everything now. I can’t let my mind get consumed or faulter or go backwards. I just can’t. I have to stand my ground harder and let my impulsiveness not get out into the open...that’s my flaw of many.

I wrap my hands around my head and try to stay calm and brave. That tiresome hold...tired or being this way and tired of so much beyond it.