Extinguished

recognized your self-preservation from a mile away.

so these are what goals are for.
as i sit here awaiting the summon of the white warrior.
suddenly it made sense.
the second time, catching fire in my hand.
it is everything that’s keeping my mind from falling apart.
to fixate, so fiercely, on one point in time and space.
the way a magnifying glass draws together separate, distraught rays of light and focuses them on a single spot of purpose.
such is the intensity, that it causes that purpose to burn up with passion, one that caves in to nothing.
it forges an unyielding will, otherwise left aesthetically functional yet hopelessly limp.
the only reason to keep going, to keep fighting.
this goal, whether a sensible one or not.

is it meant to be this difficult.
“but that’s kinda how life is, i guess.”

i’ve got a tight grip on reality but i can’t
let go of what’s in front of me here
i know you’re leaving in the morning when you wake up
leave me with some kind of proof it’s not a dream.