The thread snaps. No matter how much effort is put in, there's absolutely no way that it'll ever be the same, there is absolute a nil chance that things will go on as though nothing has passed. Once you break something, it's futile to try to mend it back to how it was before, whole. Scattered pieces, fragmentations, they can be glued together, but it's merely a way to hold it in place. You cannot change the fact that it's merely a broken soul masquerading as a whole one.
Thoughts stringed together, fabricating a reality that I wish to live in, I had hoped as much. Slowly, the frame that holds everything together begins to crack again. What a pity, it seems I'll never find true peace of mind.
Words, I wanted to hear. The thought that it was merely a farce still lingers in the deepest regions of my mind, waiting to take control of whatever's left of me that remains sane.
A well coordinated response, targeting each and every one of my soft spots. To hit where it hurts most, the exposed and vulnerable links between thoughts, struck time and time again until it broke, when what's left is rendered helpless as the mind is now easily shaped into believing the conspiracy that lies before me.
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