there’s a whisper in my ear

though i’m too preoccupied to hear

not as though i’m blind or afraid

just at a point

passions lost, misplaced or stolen

fading memories a burning feeling

changes made but not for the best

fear and loathing myself or not

coping silently in the bottom of a bottle

sleeping in a haze

walking in a daze

what day is it anyway

too much time spent on introspection

not often needed or wanted

dreams dashed when reality clashed

felt this before, didn’t like it then

escape from what

pondering meanings only after it goes

do questions become harder to answer

there isn’t enough time in eternity

to deal with all this