Why

How can I be consumed by which I do not understand, this dogma of living, had eaten me up that I had become apart of the organs that kept it alive and every few years someone moves in next door with a nullified steer the neighbour suggested that this is who we are, but there is a question that always lingers in a vortex conscious of self.

How can you be without you being apart of this, in which we call life but I feel more when, I find myself in between world's that do not even give or pour out any care for me, I do not want to be understood that's not my delight, being who I was born to be is all the fraction I need and is willing to work for.