Coated white in a black hall, I sit.
Bonded into this macrocosm bleach.
We are in motion.
Bounding through rough terrain.
Knots of terror swell like sunspots ready to flare.
Carry on, until the day is through.
I sigh and dedicate the universe to solve an insignificant issue.
A thankless job, I'm sure.
The seconds move outward as I muddle forward.
The price of gas is increasing.
Watch, my friend is melding into a tonalist canvas.
I guess he can make a family now.
Greet, Handshake, Impression, Tone, Work, Enjoy, Laugh, Graceful exit.
Calibrate, vice, heat, bend, join, twist, paint.
Right, Left, Stagger, Fall, Crawl, Crouch, Right, Left.
Grieve for the piece of your soul you left with her.
In the end, here I am.
Most people seem to like me.
And I ***** my next relationship.
How can it elevate my position?
How can I use this experience to defend myself.
How far will I see this out?
I wonder if Latisha will come back.
And I meander through the underbrush of my empty field.
This grey nothingness.
As everyone else slowly leaves me behind to pursue their friends.
And I press on forward, even if alone.
To the font of knowledge to repair my broken heart.
