I don’t have anything clever to say. I just feel things. I want to feel that terrible, wonderful disorientation that comes from a well thrown clenched fist. I want a good reason to destroy.
Today would be a good day to get in my way. But if you hit that switch, pray.
I know what awaits me on the ‘morrow.
And that pain will test me again. My chest will pulse, and flutter, and I will sit and wonder,
What will they say, if it’s too much, and I pass away?
I wish I would stop doing this to myself.
I know that this is going to be hell.