(no subject)
The paranoia simply sees it all as an elaborate ruse. That searching eye squeezes all the "truths" it can from the most mundane of situations. The slightest hesitation before a smile of recognition. A thought passed through her head. What was it?
My peers are leading me on, preparing to drop me. My family is leading me on. The doctors are leading me on. Everyday shrinking a little further into a wince, waiting for that damn shoe.
Paranoia spends a lot of time asleep these days. I wonder what self-absorbed dreams it suffers. One day to be vindicated, to have it all proven, scored upon the bedrock near which everyone must one day walk.
I gently rest the delicate crown on my shoulder, one arm supports from thighs to neck. We rise and enter the day expecting the possibility of quiet, and an uninterrupted slumber for the nearly deceased.
My peers are leading me on, preparing to drop me. My family is leading me on. The doctors are leading me on. Everyday shrinking a little further into a wince, waiting for that damn shoe.
Paranoia spends a lot of time asleep these days. I wonder what self-absorbed dreams it suffers. One day to be vindicated, to have it all proven, scored upon the bedrock near which everyone must one day walk.
I gently rest the delicate crown on my shoulder, one arm supports from thighs to neck. We rise and enter the day expecting the possibility of quiet, and an uninterrupted slumber for the nearly deceased.