of my own lack of: will power, motivation, tenacity…
of. lacking. any thing. in general.
outsiders will read this and passionately disagree. but only you, meaning me meaning you too, knows what truly and fully goes on inside the inside of the underside of things.
i stop and sink. fall forward. and often consider this movement an onward direction. when really, it’s just down down down. eyes opened or closed, it’s all the color of mud.
things appear to have gone dark, but my heart has not been blackened in any direction.
as i walk blindfolded, i can smell my dad’s lincoln roses in every room, in every ravine.
oh yeah AND
dad’s wine cellar. only in south carolina, folks.
