Absent Training Wheels

No one wonders. At least, I've never seen evidence to the contrary. Had I been willing to bet I would've bet on nothing. No one. But I never bet on anything other than surrender.

The itchy grease paint that turns people into characters. Tiny words on their faces I almost can't read. Dialogue like an antibiotic for missing saviors and sobriety's not yet recovered.

Still mine. Or someone like her. Clairvoyant infections thicken the bridges and narrow the paths. I dream of nooses and overdoses. Because life is secondary to living.

I tell lies because the truth is not a friend to anyone but the richest. How you measure such wealth is entirely subjective.

But I know nothing else if not when I'm lost. And this isn't it.

Or maybe I'm so lost that I just like to pretend that I can't be found.

No matter. Over is close enough to where I started searching.

Let me go.

I need to fall.