Writing

I can't pull myself together.
I am overwhelmed with tiredness.
I just cannot sit down and search the words.
Writing becomes the greatest extravagance.

I am losing myself bit by bit.
Stability eats one's will, maybe you are right.

Dog barks, sun rises, work starts
Repetition and nothingness......
Where can I hide my uneasiness with my lives?
From where should I start telling you my emptiness.

Your simplicity
Your silence on everything annoys me.
You will say I am melancholy without a cause.
Same, I can tell your optimism is irrational.