sifting through 3 years, 8 months and a handful of dust
like shadows falling through a matrix of "wish i hads". and
it's much harder to see how much space was taken when your
chest pounds with footsteps of those you've forsaken - its
a shame isn't it? the way these hours spin out of control,
and how the tighter your grip on the why and the how
insures a faster demise to a here and a now. there's no
strength in numbers is the one thing i've found, and you
can't trust your balance until you've walked with your feet
on the ground.
