I'm high now and sulking in detached spacey anxiousness. My cigarette hanging limply in fingers. music cramming into my eardrums. staring into coffee too cold. Here I am: tearing down the towers I only just made. New lined bricks explode beside the pressure of the bombs I throw. The pave is still hot and debris will fall and solidify in it. There I was: I can see the shadows of the cities I've left behind, their stirred up ashes so fresh they sometimes cloud my vision. Here I am: standing in my kitchen, scrubbing a frying pan, furious. There I was: a million years ago, on the other side of the frying pan flying across the room. Here I am: screaming I love you and I'm scared. There I was: listening to i hate you and if you leave, i don't want you to come back. Here I am: losing myself in a rhythm of destruction and there I was: born into a cycle where I'm just another link on the chain. Heritage cascades over me god it's painful but oddly relieving. If I truly lived in the moment, I would hear the telephone ring, him begging me to find something I could trust in him and hold onto it. If I truly lived in the moment, I wouldn't be here thinking about you in the aftermath.