I don't give a damn, I'm happy as a clam

I seem to be retreating, retreating
slowly into my shell
try as I might not to
it seems I'm not hanging out with the right people

they shut me up inside, make me unable to say
anything
and I like them (and I) less and less


it's like something's shriveled up and died inside
there's this insatiable need to do something
and the inability to do anything
to occupy my fingers, my mind

and so it drifts
(sinks?)