courageous heart but absent minded empty head free of logic or true feeling a blank slate roaming the streets burning with a desire but not sure what it is hiding from the places where palms touch because it feels too shallow not ready, you're not ready if you only had a brain and not just a bleeding heart pumping full of aching and of a dreary reminiscence the taste on your tongue is metallic and nauseating you desire to throw it all away. how good that would be.