It’s funny, the threads that loosen when your head is stuck in hyperspeed. It’s skimming through life. Knowing the time but not the date.
Every train rests at the station. Right now I am caught between the screaming wheels of an underprepared brake.
The air is thickening and sticking to my lungs like syrup as the temperature slowly crawls down, down. Seasonal shifts make my eyes water sober and forshadow the storm brewing.
Now is the time that I embrace the rain, thinking it will bring some relief to this burnt-out brain. The grass isn’t greener on the other side. Depression walks with me like stones in my shoes.
This summer’s anxieties have laced my chest too tightly and collected in pools under my eyes. My feet ache from long working days and poorly spent pay. My sight is illuminated by flickering clarity. The switch is neither on nor off.
Is this normality? This pre-crash? It feels like medication.
All I know is that the past two and a half months came at me like as sneeze and I’m ready to wipe them off of my sleeves.
