threads of sanity

I impose a routine on myself just to maintain my sanity. I lose my sanity by following that routine. I become a pawn on strings in constant unraveling; guided, compelled by myself. Forced to continue down a path already traveled, already memorized and worn out. The threads that make up my feet are nonexistent, already burned by the dragging of days. My inert body, belonging to an empty society. The light that once composed me is now a faint glow of what was, reflecting my adaptation, or the futile attempt at it.