Nubs.

Towards what goal does the mind drift away from today? 

Distraction upon distraction until we run out of places to hide.

The flame is quiet before it grows, because it knows.

Before you plunge, remember to take a deep breath. 

I flinch when the flicker takes off, it shrouds my peripheral.

In a moment my hands are engulfed and I can no longer see.

Eyes pressed tight, waiting for the burning sensation to stop. 

Alas, a snuff and dissipation. I open my eyes and begin to see.

Nothing but nubs of ash and bone. 

It takes a moment to let the reality sink in. 

It's hard to make sense sometimes of what you've become.

Some days you wake and cannot stand your face.

Some days you wear a mask when not required to do so. 

Some days you light a candle and put it out with your tongue. 

Sometimes in your dreams you grow horns and a tail. 

Some nights you lie awake and wish for sleep.

Some nights you sleep and die over and over again.

It's never in your best interest to follow the rabbit hole. 

You're never going to fit, it doesn't matter why. 

There's no buried treasure, it's all been found and spent. 

There's no hope left, nothing heaven sent. 

I close my eyes and see the failures of my youth.

I cannot help but feel adjacent to this animated figure. 

Is it a parasite, inflicting such discord within my withered mind? 

Been left out in the sun too long, must have dried up. 

You can't reanimate the dead, at least not in the way you want. 

Everything else is just a distraction. 

Eventually, a full circle is made and we end up at our start. 

The mind drifts, again, towards impending doom and desolation. 

In the shadows, there is peace but not for long.

Every subsequent moment is filled with panic. 

Awaiting the inevitable spotlight glow. 

Waiting to be drawn and quartered.

I close my eyes and am startled awake. 

It's been too long with too little progress. 

There's no time left to twiddle your thumbs. 

All that's left are nubs.