1 mental suffering caused by loss, disappointment, etc.; sadness, grief, or regret 2 that which produces
such suffering; trouble, loss, affliction, etc. 3 the outward expression of such suffering; mourning; lamentation 4
1 a drop of the salty fluid secreted by the lacrimal gland to lubricate the eyeball, kill bacteria, etc.: in
humans, tears my flow for emotional reasons due to the tightening of muscles near the glands 2 anything resembling
this, as a drop of transparent gum; tearlike mass 3 [pl] sorrow; grief
In too deep, it's the climb out that hurts, not sliding down.
So close. Near to me is this. I am vexed by such behaviours I exhibit. I am powerless to stop them. Meaningless
words are poured out for this.
Perhaps a maker of mirrors. Those curious things, silvered backs Fire tracking, bouncing lights off of my
"multicoloured mirrors" affixed to what, hobnail boots? I know not of these boots anyways. I'll stick to books,
sandles, and tattoos.
Tie dyeing face and hands, a walking art exhibit. I accept that people have other things to do. Perhaps I'm too aloof.
Stay in contact, I'm just aimlessly yammering.
I once created a page. It was all of black and green, if it were a plant it would be an old tree with vines growing up,
wrapping the branches. Symbiotically living, of course. Gold-edged leaves, and bright birds to alight in its branches
occasionally. Graveyards would be visible from high up in this tree. (The perfect climbing tree, no less) Out into the
edges of a town, perhaps near a secluded park, forgotten by the hustle of now. Content. Relaxed.
I sit furiously behind the wheel, splashing along at a mundane 70 miles, ripping through backroads, feeling numb
"We wail insane. Where were you, Jack? While we were waiting so long... dallying in the sitting room. I
hold a glittered girl, breathe." Ah me. Stolen lines from a dead hand, died in ‘69. Vexed and warped tongues,
splintered in anger. I roar into the wind, almost tumbling into the ravine/open wound of earth. Killed engine,