Sense is for the weak

Sometimes I wish my heart would just ho ahead and explode…
Sometimes it hurts so bad that it becomes counter productive, the beating…I mean.
My blood is tired of traveling through the endless globular tunnels that are ever so slowly closing in on themselves. It’s always dark. It’s a little too warm unless it’s snowing outside and it never does. When you do see light it’s always eclipsed. That’s the last time I stay up all night to see one…an eclipse. They said the northern lights were to visit for a night or two. I should have just looked at the name and hit the pillow. And when that happens I wish I was dreaming but the fog that is the dream is a little bit clearer than my waking life. And then I’m not sure if I am here at all and feel lucky for it. Only that if I am then there is a fine line between me and the beginning. Everything else in not sense so let’s give it a go. Let’s execrate the words that are always there and liken the phrases to the air. Clenching the weary plastic heart and head that breathe together and the concept of together is important. So when it’s all said and done today make sure you are not alone. Please fear being alone, the deep fear that I have come to know. The opposite day as you make your way. Pull behind you a train, a long black iron coal burning train, so you will think you are alive and then realize that it killed you, and make sure you are wearing a smile before it happens, oh and a red shirt. It takes less muscles to do that. Obviously frowning is not for the lazy.