That sinking feeling
You wake up.
You’re the same that last night.
You’re the same that last week,
Last month,
Last year.
But it doesn’t matter.

Because even though you’re the same,
You’re less than before.
Less confident,
Less happy,
Less alive,
Less.

Your words,
They’re vanishing.
Each letter slowly losing its power,
Losing its color,
Losing.
They become transparent,
Thin as air.
And you choke on them,
You choke on that terrible smoke.

You’re voiceless.
You’re the same.
You’re unimportant.
And you believe them.

You wake up.