Tuesday, February 12, 2008


It's strange really, how much I feel how they feel. More contagious and common than a cold. Leave home, the remedy is unknown. The thread count of her jeans at dawn, a sleepless light, missing verses abandoned songs. Young to old, lovers to lust, bottles to empty, here to gone. Kick buckets, endorse here. No roses, just weeds. Drown your eyes, it's Monday again.

All aboard, I'm anchored by fear...