Thursday, September 28, 2017

(just)

Late night conversation, your head spins and you walk around in a daze, not just for lack of sleep. How does one do the right thing when all options on the table will hurt? Everybody bleeds at the end.

I fall asleep early, with a strange autumn wind piercing through the window. There's a storm brewing in your gut. It's too soon to guess now the fallout.

No comments:

Post a Comment