I find myself strictly indulged in the affair of misery
Immovable beyond consent
and thoughtless in what I could propose
I see myself aged in desire but limited by my momentum
The strict composition of my notation
Forced to behave in the need of want
I lie dissected on my bed,
my heart in my hand bleeding passively in disgust
My breaths deep but shallow and my sight blurred
My sleep long but brief
I consent to an analysis
A diagnosis of order, I seek fortitude
But it slips away indifferent
I ask why it seeks me as its owner
It leaves
Afraid of disorder
