That whatever bond that exists is no more solid than the smoke connecting fire and air?
Ever tire of building bridges that go mostly unused?
Worse, bridges that collapse because someone gambled against the load limit.
Ever found the need to talk and realize that ears are pinned elsewhere?
You find a comfortable corner and engage yourself with yourself, sharing tales and dreams, the folly of a fool meant for microscopes.
Ever ached over not being able to explode when you feel you need to?
With every buried thought trailing behind you, in a swirling gown train of mist 10 tons heavy.
Ever stood at the gates of others' good intents or promises, finding yourself doubting sincerities?
But find yourself paying the entrance fee still, because your two feet depended on it?
Ever been in a state where you're not certain who you are anymore?
And because of that, you feel that no one really knows the real you.
Ever felt that, in the end, it's all your fault?
Ever felt tired?