Today.

Trapped between the sleeves,
Of empty and too much.
Tapping into that past,
The sights, sounds, touch.

Can never say for certain though,
How painfully easy it is.
Manipulate till you take,
Everything, I never wanted this.

The easy walk, easy eyes,
easy touches, and words.
The timely approaches a wanting gait,
I don't deserve best, so gets worse.

But only because i can never,
Have the one thing.
That i actually require,
It's impossible; being.

So lived today, and forget tomorrow.
The easy always hurts it.
Such progress for months, or years.
Broken, bit by bit.

Yeah, you're impossible.