Realization

I am no poet. I'm a liar. I see it and I mock it. I build it to destroy it. I live between the letters. Theres nothing left for me see, nothing left except me, I haven't know the person in the mirror for years. Or am I this? Questions fill my body, answers are all around me, but I'm so dizzy from chasing them around, I can barely stand. Every time I take a step, I fall three back. It isn't fun. These games aren't fun, but they kill time. They kill the minutes between my falls. I knew you for a week and drained you for your worth. I thought I was on the mend, but I guess its true when the horse says ending is better than mending, so all I do is say I'm sorry, and it gets me nowhere, but thats okay cause I have nowhere to go. I look up and watch the sky heaving with its sobs, asking why it hurts so much, and he told me "the world is a machine, and its people are its gears, most are in their place, while some are in the teeth," Now I haven't moved since that day and my hearbeat is getting weaker, but as long as I stay out of the way, I can disappear completely.