i'm trying to handle life. i'm trying to take it.
but i always get these compulsive images of thousands of wolves eating me limb from limb.
pulling my ears, nose, and toes to each side to fight amongst each other as to whom will get the juiciest bite.
i hope you don't feel this morbid; as it isn't meant to be.
maybe subconsciously.
my eyes are glued to words.
although i've always imaged words useless.
with closed eyes you are beside me.
with open my sheets are stained with tears.
what we see is the same thing.
our hair will become tangled one day.
and i won't be able to get away from those eyes.
little manu,
i can. i can. i can.
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