Something inside me dies every time I see regrets hanging around my shoulders. I think I should give them up but they won’t leave me. It’s all emptiness doesn’t want to go way at any cost. The world around feels so bland and even in room full of darkness, I still find fault in tickling of the clock. The agony doesn’t need. No words of intrigue hold any spark. I need to feel something strong and solid that is consistent like the daily sun. It scares me to think I won’t bat an eye to anything that for once makes me feel really alive and consumed.