fill me please

From now on, I've decided to give myself a tiny little box.
For I was known to always think and live outside of boxes.
For so many years, I lived outside of me.
Eventually, I did reach the point of truely realizing how it can destroy you.
You wouldn't think that reaching out to the others would have so bad consequences.
Until you see how the guy is running like an epileptic clown on hard ice. Ridiculously slipping.
Running from my self.
Stretching my soul in the process to false proportions. Making huge holes.
Ignoring the limits of my body, to dangerous repercussions.
Ripping my heart as it just seemed to bound me.
Part of the people who get up in the morning with the feeling of being a newborn everyday.
Part of the people who get up late with the terrifying thought that they have no personnality anymore.
Part of the people who will exhaust all their energy absorbing every bit of oxygen around hoping to restart their life with a firework explosion.
Part of the people who get up on a sunday in the path of self-destruction.
Cause I was thinking that I was going up, and I went up for sure.
And I was thinking that I was going closer to you, and that is true, too.
But I did not notice that in the mean time, half of my splitted, wasted mind did go down, some half that had some kind of importance, mostly undetected, otherwise in denial, so farther that I could have expected, and with so serious consequences.
Then I realized some months ago that I did let myself shrink to the point of impotence, again, for it was wrong not to care about being pulled apart by those two forces horses for so long.
And yet I'm thankful for that during those years, I had so many great times and learned so many things, how could there ever be remorses? That was the tricky part.
So many wonders, so much beauty, so many lost and found, missing truths about life and about me,
like the way we can all glow in the dark and the way we can all deflect light.
So from now on, i've decided to put myself on a tiny little box, and I'm gonna say that it's OK.
Put me on an emotional quarantine, I'll say that there's no pressure.
Just a few weeks, the time to put behind a few real-life issues that transformed from ghosts in the shell to priorities that I can handle. I could easily deal with them with the door opened, except that I just don't want to anymore.
I'm confident. For the first time ever, there are signs of concrete progress, a schedule that works even when it's forgotten, and there is the assurance that I'm not gonna be late.