When you're down.

They always bring us down. They watch and scrutinize and when they eye your weakness, you’re a dead man. They.

I.  I’d wish that was the case. ‘Cause somehow, I’ve built a replica of “them” inside me. An inbuilt enemy that watches in scrutiny and when it eyes my weakness, I’m on the ground. I think I’ve been here for a long time. I don’t know.  The tunnel is long and dark and it feels like I haven’t moved an inch. I thought that I may have moved on, further perhaps outrunning this inbuilt predator. But who am I kidding? 

Every time. That same dark tunnel. That same stone cold floor. That same feeling of being numb and stationary.