I'm exhausted,
chasing around,
asking myself,
why?
and what do you want?
Trying to find some sort of framework for my world,
when it probably doesn't exist.
Answers,
always answers,
when none are forthcoming,
reasons,
in a field of random.
The why of the world is easy,
science,
logic,
numbers and patterns,
The why of me,
my choices,
that fabric is ephemera
and I can let go of the threads, trust me,
nobody is better at letting go than me,
but when you let go of everything,
you have nothing,
and that is freedom,
in the form of suicide.
So give me something,
give me anything,
because
I refuse faith,
and reason has abandoned me,
and the night is long.
