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The Fallacy of Youth or the Apathy of Aging

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When the words stop reaching,
When the actions stop effecting,
What is left?
&
The bitter morning air seeps through your calloused skin,
You shiver as the air amplifies the hollowness you feel,
Your bones ache with the sober clarity of the new day,
Everything is so sharp,
And yet so dull,
Numb apathy over takes you,
Your stomach is turbulent,
How can there ever be relief,
When nothing will ever be the same?
&
Burns,
And,
Scars,
Are they really the victories of adversity?
Or
Are they the unwanted reminders of the fallacy of youth?
&
Are you really growing up?
Or is the Apathy just winning out?
&
Try as you might,
The fog just won’t clear,
Your mind is hazy with the miasma of doubt,
The words just won’t come,
You want so desperately to apologize,
To move,
To breathe,
&
Everything is so dull,
Everything is blurry,
Faded and cracked with neglect,
&
How do you fix yourself when nothings left?
&
New situations arise,
But the old insecurities remain,
Clinging to your clumsy feet,
Forming your every fumbled word,
Razing every good intention,
Leaving a empty husk of you,
&
With time will they fade?
Or just be replaced?
&
You’ve made yourself a nice veneer to replace the old mess,
But it’s still there,
Just festering,
Just waiting behind every charming smile,
Behind every boisterous gesture,
You may have been removed from the harm,
But the trauma inflicted is still there,
&
Everyday becomes a chore,
You find the energy required missing,
You find the ability to care impossible,
Your failures come without any effort,
&
As the past solidifies,
You reach the intersection of regret and uncertainty,
Do you push forward into the unknown?
Do you slip back into the melancholy of the past?