Threatening. Interlinking overture if the last word.

I said I broke it. You said what.

Starving me.

Unprepared. Washing- wasping sickness. Where humour is the only cure. Driving me silently insane. Great expectations and you’ve nothing to share. No output. The paradox of the thing that makes you beautiful is what makes me hate you. Uncomfort riddles me. Plagued my pauses. Riding for the hills of new dorms. Inexpressive, exhaustive misunderstandings. Cold hands hold it all in. Love, lust and the walk down a lonely path. Splitting me in half and half again. A bitter refrain of timing, energy and options. No changes. Backward steps. Eyebrows and solder come unstuck. Could you be kidding me? Have you really be this, this entire time? I tire. Rolled over on my back. Weak with loss. Refusals and suffusive elongations pedal. No doubles, just surfboard balance and a cup of emptiness. Move on.