(no subject)
so this becomes my cage. corralled and confined by stale quarter bottles of wine, impounded by crooked paintings, detained by missing blinds. you know, we're always waiting. wondering when your turn is going to be, or has it already happened? the pieces fit and crumble. pills to wake up, pills to sleep, pills to numb in the processes. everything in capsule form except for the liquor. maybe i've jumped dimension but for now this spinning is okay. time is just the moon, and it's dissolving.
management at the highest.
management at the highest.