lyingdead

Nothing unusual. Something in the spinning makes my voice sound dizzy. Or im just another boy sitting against the wall watching the world go by. The trainwreck of tomorrows gently tapping at my window. So I leave myself no options but to ignore them. And just keep spinning with today. Where nothing is here in my hands, but the weight of new beginnings. and the distance of days forgotten. January? The cycle of longing left waiting on my doorstep. Relish the foretaste of wanting. Desire. Disposition. And I a desolate creation in the eyes of God.