The feeling...

Less than equivalent. More than nothing at all. Somewhere in the middle of life. Trying to stand after the fall. Self is nothing but another face. Years pass into a faded fog. Lost becomes a feeling of comfort. Stagnant settles into a pause. Attempting to define shits within. Talking to the walls. Distant n alone no answer is known. Trapped within the flaws. There's nothing to believe in. No one left to call. Not a single person to confide. Drifting with the feeling of a world not so small. Emotions forgotten n away with the toss. Mirrors aging n afraid to interact. Witness to the truths so raw. Emptied as a person find ever be. Passion is just another thing to gawk. Useless is the inner feeling. Irrelevant to cause. Misplaced n confused missing the point. Unable to remember the feeling of the face placed in a palm. Lower the heart sinks below the surface. Deeper than the eyes will ever talk. Hollow n numb nerves are immune. Breaking out the sidewalk chalk. Damn near dead but still alive. Hanging on to an endless dull. Distant without a reason to crud back over. Hope is gone. The end had come to pass. Every day is just another sideshow that'll never aw. There's isn't much to who used to be. Life changed n the dream broke it's claws. No longer able to cling to the climbinh from from the false. As the enclosure surrounds the pieces  in the smog. Feeling as a thought to others. Beneath the burial of unwanted applause. There sits a loner shaking the head. Moving differently just because. Lacking a purpose in a reality that lives without lies. The solo artist that gave up on being soft...