I don’t know the chemistry of cures. The amount of persuasion the brain needs to swallow it whole. Assimilate to throwing darts in the dark against move the targets. Left to belief, because we all believe it.
Drum up a line. Shuffle this confusion. And find answers in the randomness, draw a convenient conclusion.
And then what? Lose myself from what I supposed to have got. Weave through this lot of have nots. This cycle I writhed in pain.
From time to time I surface. Or maybe that was a dream. I’ve held my breath for so long, swore to be immersed in gleam… and have functioning gills. No rue, malcontent, not guilt…
Looking at you, the race is flagged checkered, wave hello to the end. We crossed the line with unfulfilled intent…
danDAman 