i don’t have anymore. i have a stomachful of nickels, weighting down the words. am i awry? last night it was 3am and i stared at the ceiling, out the window hearing everything and nothing. no sleep, no way to be weary. i crash down, i smell fear, i feel the chaos in others. it permeates my skin as i’m brushing it off. you protect, you, my armor of a man. i think of years from now – is it what i see now or where will i be? there there there or in a field, galloping. i can be there. these days i speak of dead and feel cold water coursing through my own veins. where do you take me, where is it the difference between me and them. i’m asking, i’m seeking, i’m brutal against myself. counting the times i am imperfect, pounding my mistakes against the wall, reshaping them. how is it we are? when will i find two closed eye that don’t flutter, that don’t crack…maybe i’m just waiting for new skin, that warmth you promised, a city that looks different with your hand in mine. but i must combat this question that lies inside. does it always tell me, or does it simply test what’s not there. over think. under sleep. i am looking for something. looking (seeking) (lost/found). good. better. soon.