I am tired of living an approximation of life. Breathing but not really breathing. Taking in only the limitations of what this world has to offer. Always an approximation.
I miss my soul. It served me well before I compromised it. I hid it from the world. Choke. My heart filled with smoke.
My pain is approximate, not really pain but it feels like it. My body is lying to me. It feels what it feels and then passes the messages on to me.
I lost something but I could not tell you when approximately.