Feel like I’m trapped in this world, drips of drab every day. A grey melancholy that never really goes away. I wake up to a faded heart and an alienated mind. Blind feelings leading me into emotions unkind. Be kind to yourself, but when you’re crestfallen your first position is always second. A disposition regarding signs as if destiny had beckoned, but the nightmare makes out like it’s already reckoned.

Once serene it’s a place likely to be decked and, continously shackled, ripped wrists and wrecked ankles. Small tokens of appreciation to paid application, submission, supplication, prayers are taken but I don’t receive the gift aid another way to fake pay. Rare tare tare. Is it fair, palms together and into space I stare.

It’s a raid on my radar’d art, I radio for help but everything is as it was at the start. A tardy heart, despite the words, untruths and heresay, I’m a spirit of fact and I always find the true way. So regardless of whether it was just a lack in tact, a forced course, or whether I’ve been written into a story that’s deliberately coarse, I don’t care anymore:

I don’t curse the curve or the curvature of fate’s namesake because I know it won’t work and when I return after being gnawed and pawed, after I’ve licked up and cleaned out all the blood from raw wound nerves, I can only pray the pain wasn’t intentionally clawed even though I can see it clear as day, but for the millionth time, come what may.

ink is free, so...

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