Dead

                          I’m dead.

                                           I’m dead inside.

Downtime is poison…

                                    …that I cannot stomach.

Without the whirl and spin…

             …of frustration and conflict…

                                           …I lose purpose.

                I become worthless.

I reach…

                     …but others cannot handle my busyness.

There is no solace…

                               …in my endless restlessness.

Only one thing…

                                …could end this ugly cycle.

             Death.

                    True death.

My true death.

                                             What a relief.

To lose the capacity…

                                                 …to yearn…

                      …and ache…

…and need…