Like the wind knocked out.
I can feel my hair falling away. My skull pressing, pushing, against my brain.
To look up and look away. To exhale. To drop the match.
The world is best from a distance.
Blue and green. Spinning and breathing and living.
The world is best from a distance.
I can't help but watch the dregs and the birds. Trash in the yard and wonder; why can't that be me?
Remember when I had that car?
That nice guitar?
Remember thinking I was climbing out?
My skull pressing, pushing, against my brain.
Why do I worry about that at all?
Evening comes around.
Sleep while I can.
Beautiful world.
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