too tired to deal too strung out to heal too tardy to seal too nauseated to keep down my last meal i find relief in doing nothing i find solace in tasting the blood between my split bottom lip i find peace in pretending that i simply do not exist i hide from the all-too-clear truth that you are no longer here i present myself as a constructed version of many broken pieces of my self there are days that i wanna fly there are nights my final landing to be right here....where you last stood....