I am in the center of noise, where it is static, blank, nothing.  The pull of sadness is stronger than I am.  The weight of my choices floods me with regret.  I have nothing to look back on but loss, nothing to look forward to. I need to rest, to escape the spiteful murmurs of my mind.  My fingers are stone, my heart decrepit. I threw myself away so long ago and cannot be found.  I have shed my skin too many times, tried to believe I could be different.  I have been kicked again and again by a reality only I am responsible for.  I am tired.  Too tired to write or think or speak.  I remain lost, trapped, silenced.