Noose
How is it I've been fighting the same enemies everyday as if any of the problems are new I'm so sick of the ropes slipping in the door cracks, unsealed windows, secretly slipping down as I walk under trees casting the same shadows as always yet still laying across the worn pavement as always nothing ever really changes, does it its always going to creep back I fight the things of which I share the same face 5 steps forward and 4 steps back sometimes I'm missing hours days months but I can't seem to lose it all the memories are intoxicating feelings of morbid joy as if chaos is the only home in which I find peace like the absence of sound prevents sleep and lack of misery prohibits pleasure of joy I can feel the knots tightening each day holding me at the mercy of my own self hatred so much regret after glimmers of what happy could be and I'll never know if I made the right decisions until its too late I suppose