HYPO

Tired.

Below the mark.

Dry skin.

Weight gain or puffiness?

Thinning mane.

Can’t remember where I left my keys.

It sucks getting old...

Ready to go...

Starting my flow...

Stopped in my tracks...

I have to go back...

Now feeling sick...

All because I lack a click...

My blood runs red to my face.

In my hands a sword...a shield.

Lives that clash and drown in angst.

If, but an open hand can reach...

into the depth of that pain...

pulling back the torn flesh.

Saving the many from just the two...