Messenger of Teeth

Struggling to remain stimulating.
Struggling to maintain any kind of focus whatsoever.
Struggling just to stay awake.
Struggling to stay away.
Let me wander; it happens daily, though done so in the absence of pain,
more-so flickering glimpses of emptiness and contempt.
Perhaps this piece is the last door to close;
last muttered words, and last sequenced breaths;
as for all intents and purposes you no longer exist. But neither does the man you once knew.
And I'm done.
This place no longer offers any solace,
so this time we're passed due;
picking up the pieces, pushing onward, it's time to start anew.