Today, I woke up in a bath of syringes and broken glass with a harpy perched on my chest. The ghosts that constantly float around my in-the-clouds head had abandoned me to a state of perpetual mental ne'er-do-well. Nearby, babies screamed for the touch of their mothers and food but never to be had again. Buildings burned as they did since the time of the great white nothing and the poison air was thinner while needy blades were quietly left unsatisfied.
I want to tell you how much I love you but the urge to peel back your flesh and embrace your smooth skeleton was far too strong. As I lay next to you I watched the lights dance behind my eyelids. They reminded me of when meaning meant something and hatred was clearly distinguishable from boredom.
No sense intended to be made.
I've been asleep inside a box full of comfortable lies and packing peanuts for the past two weeks. It's time to wake up.