Creature of Habit

I find that I do things because they are familiar
Because having this as my routine is somehow comforting.

Even when the very actions I am doing

Are proactively working against me.

A creature of habit,

A creature who has become addicted to the game of Russian roulette currently playing out in her head.

The stakes rise higher and higher.

Yet somehow each time the trigger is pulled the bullet misses or is never shot at all.

When and how does it all end?

Is it bloody or is it just disappointing?

No action; just all this pent up aggression in an endless direction;

Sitting with no where to go in her head

And only an irrational routine to give her any sense of this so-called “sanity”.


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