Breathe in. My lungs feel like ice. Underneath this skin is corruption. A tangled mess, burning and icy all at once. I cannot recall a time when I felt this empty. This sullen. This cold.

The air is heavy.

Detached. And very unable to land any reasons for this. It is quite peculiar to feel like this without a specific event to have caused it.

My eyes are deadpan. No one can read me. I am expressionless, this smile is forced. I can hardly stand to be this distant and glacial.

I can no longer separate the disparaging noise in my head, it sounds like my own. It is my own. I created all the noise, every last decibel. Optimism is lost somewhere in 2013, which already seems like a decade ago.