or it feels like i am. down a pit, the sides are uneven like its been dug in a hurry, and i'm hurtling down.
the wind hurts, but not as much as the sides do. there should be room to fall but i hit the sides all the time.
the acid is with me. it doesn't hurt, because it's mine. keeping it in is difficult, because it's acid. you can't do anything with it except make it stronger or destroy things.
i don't want either.
but why is it mine to deal with?
it's not mine.
it's yours. and if i asked it to, it would kill you.
my candleflame is going out. it's so small, where once it made a glorious light.
did i fuck this up or did you?
why is it even important?
why can't you leave me alone in my own head?
headaches and back aches and stomach pains.
these are where thinking leads.
if the flame goes out, so do i.
and i'll never get it lit again.
maybe that would be better. flames just attract attention.
No comments:
Post a Comment