Not too sure doggy
The very thought keeps pounding its way back to the front of My head. It's non-stop and as constant as a leaky bathroom faucet, sending Me to ready myself with slit wrists. On occasion, it's a vibrance that fills My every breath with hope. That very hope that can turn the darkest of days into some amazing bursts of blinding light. And then there are they days that it can make the bottom feel like the half way point to hell. I suppose expectations always run high and wild with Me, but feeling's a feeling and I'm running on close to empty. First light is barely near My gaze, and last call is sounding better and better these days. I just don't know what to do.