the afternoon feels its way into a haze when the moonlight is anticipated.
anticipation is key to the game;
once the sleep is gone, there are no calendars.
deadline irrelevant, time line significant.
the former line is definitely dead,
while the latter grips onto everything i have left.
fishing line, snorting line, drop a line.
they all lead from point a to point b.
point b may become destructive.
x marks the spot where tattoos are never healed,
while scabs continue to peel.
nervous habits leave the skin raw.
meanwhile, in a memory far far away... i am alright.
there is difficulty in finding an outlet when the audience is overbearing.
therapy is scarce, eyes are everywhere.
these eyes may just be the same pair in succession.
amazing how time flies, but some things remain constant.
consistency is a virtue - a gift and a curse.
