Waiting

How do I stop?

I'm making excuses, I"m putting it off. I say I want to have time for my life, and yet I hide, behind the superficial pain of nothing.

I stress, because I make myself. I lie, and I"m a damn good liar. I know the difference, I can see the insult, and I revel in letting it exist.

I have my ghosts.
They're winning.

I'm looking for my weapon of choice.

But I'm trying to defeat myself.