Staring at a blank slate
Reaching out for nothing
But cycling through the process
Consistently, obsessively

In an attempt to avoid
Any kind of forward motion
I wish I could tell you why
But I'm unaware
Unaware of the motivation
I don't want help
I don't want to move

The act of physical combat
The only thing that remotely excites me
Enough to leave my quarters
Day in and day out

Expecting nothing
Wanting nothing
Nothing, nothing at all

Stereotypical enough to laugh at the concept
That the only temporary relief to this weight
Is the adrenaline rush from having your life
Choked from your body
Get me on the road so I can live again