intersections are dangerous. too many people going too many different directions.. all splinters and bent nails. as we fumble toward destinations always just out of reach.
choices are lead. they weigh us down. cause us to sink.
flesh is eidetic. there is rage in the smallest of expectations. there is betrayal in the simplest mistakes. the truth emerges as the architect of our grief.
the walls tremble. the structure rots. destruction suits us. it always has.