What's the point in going to sleep when you have nothing to dream about, in bed but not sleeping, tippy toes, snapping. From too much dead weight. From my Shins
I will fall back down, without complaint, sinking into sheets that grow mold and new ideas, one day my skin will surly shed.
then I will climb, with new found optimism.
Upon these dead, memories, and appreciate the modest view.
Turn and briefly smile, downwards. Towards my Exo-skeleton
My oh My. We have drifted apart.
(Objective introspection scares me.
I'm not nearly as interesting as I think I am.
Fucking delusional.
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