I'm coming a little unglued.
It's not that I'm unhappy; I'm jovial now.
I was just sitting here reading, my eyelids drooped, my body slumped. I only made it to page six. I took my pills, walked up the stairs.
The air was too warm. My pillow felt wrong. The moment I hit the mattress I thought of you, Bridge. I've dismissed and dismissed you again and again, but wouldn't tonight be so nice for a visit?
The pressure is constant to always say no, to reign myself in. It wears me out.