Tired Eyes

Summon the savior. Tell him he is lost.

Liberal as any truth can be in the arms of its debtor. What I owe you I can never repay. You gave me something I can't create on my own.

Open the valve. It's coming through. Like it or not. There are squares everywhere. And all the circles are gone.

Various. As the stars the night selects to display. There are so many out there, but it only shows us a fraction. They're all out there together. Crowded into the universe. Yet each alone.

Focusing on the altitude of my dying. So many plateaus. They scatter the reasons I've collected. Magazines stripped of all the shiny to their pages.

There's nothing to read now except these words I steal from failing fingers.

It always heals. That's true, but it's never better.