Friday, October 23rd, approximately 9 am…
Friday, October 23rd, approximately 10 am…
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I’m losing sleep like the machinest. I’m creeping and crawling the underground. It’s all around me. I don’t know where I am. I hear a cricket and a rubber tire on concrete. I’m timid. I like the night. I fear the day. I roll under the covers and wonder. I feel the air and wonder how thick it is. I like the wind. I’m scared on a whim. I speak the truth and the suckers run. What have I become? The voices trace. The colors become numb. All I want is to be regular. I don’t own a gun.