Each day that passes makes me feel much better being a recluse

The complex dynamics of relationships are manufactured by the leisurely and the redundant who are in need of complications for sustenance
They leave me not wanting to come into contact with anything anymore

Its these passing phases that makes me feel dangerous
I can’t figure myself out
But I don’t want to either
But I can’t either
There’s so little breath left
After all the running

But when I see people, I become a person again, like a mask-bearer in a masquerade