Fuck, up.

What does one do with one self when they feel dried up? I feel, deeply, every thought, heavy sigh and blank stare across the room. They are my own, captured. Reflections of moments I wish I'd thought through a lot sooner than I did. I want to cry but can't. Is it possible to have used a life time of tears by 35? Troubled mind, wounded heart, hematoma sized ego. Couldn't quite check that shit at the door... As promised and expected I bleed to take back words never forgotten... Etched and sketched, don't say it won't work. My love, present.