The drugs are evading my system and everything spills over this ethereal brim. A long table hovers in white, liminal space. Everybody is there: a bird I choose not to put in a cage, the unrequited one, the path I did not take. Messages I’ve given to others come back to make them my own. The yarn is all tied up and trying to work itself out. It’s a curse to be able to close your eyes, stretch out your arm, and feel the hollow bone under your brow. It’s warm. It’s fading. It’s not real. I’m a yo-yoing pendulum between then and now. This is to say, I’m not having a good time. Laundry piles. Dish piles. Piles on all my desks. What am I escaping from? Everything is as perfect as ever and I want to smash it up. Take a lighter and some fluid to it; step outside of my body and watch the reflection of it burning in my own eyes. Slap the hell out of that girl and scream wake up.
u have such a beautiful awesome mind. love everything u do