I will try not to let it get the best of me: it can take the worst. Like those aches and pains. And that devious longing that creeps up like a rerun? Oh yes. Just the worst. I have a feeling I'll need the sharpest knife to cut the deepest wound. A removal of sorts to straighten everything out and make me seem crystal clear. A tuning fork spine with a bed full of scars. And it scares me how long it takes to wake up from my recurring dreams. I think the house is falling around me. I'm convinced there is a crowd noting my every move. I rear and buck. There is the red anger. There are my eyes losing sight and glowing white. This is the cause: you are convincing yourself of a lie. And it just gets better and better. The worst is a debt that you can't fret.
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