Stretch and work my brain
Hours into the night
Hours into exhaustion
For words on digital pages
That are edited away like vapors.
I did something there, I really did.
But who will ever know?
Who will ever care?
Some buddies have faded. And not from me, but simply from the care of people in general. I see and sense this.
Some buddies I knew were just kids a couple years ago, but something happened to them. They got hurt by a love or fell out of favor from work supervisors. They've become reclusive. The light has left their eyes.
Probably the same mantra: Build shells or die of pain from the elements.
I want to chip away at you, but sometimes I feel as if I will die of fatigue trying to get to your impossible center.