I've carried different flags in my day ..Worn tired emotions on both
sleeves ... Call me the King of Altruism .. The poet that hid as the shot glasses slammed the kitchen table harder with each drink .. The sight of Smirnoff ***** bottles are wicked painful to this very day .. The little ******* that sent his thoughts to the secret blue sky with wooden matches and red eyes so no one could read them .. Never understood , doomed and terminally depressed ..No hope .. No cure ... Everything is getting 'tighter' year after year.. Tighter I would say .. The house , the last bastion of private contemplation and solace is growing small .. Like the injured animal it's sheltering tonight .. Wringing out the last bit of memory on a web site , until the well eventually runs dry ... No more running or hanging on to the left arm with the right hand ..Goodbye Reflections , facing the living dead , Genuflections regarding the waste of days .. Hours of atrophy fulfilled ..