The sides of this hole keep caving in on me. I keep trying to climb out and just end up with clods of dirt and broken roots in my hands.
Black dirt under my nails. All this trying so hard is wearing me down and sometimes I feel like I can't breathe. There's nothing on TV.
I can't sleep, and when I do, my dreams are all fucked up,
with old faded ghosts and overhead views of dark interstate exchanges.
Or I'm fighting to keep my head up in grey waters with white foamy waves. Half the time I end up out on the ends of weak branches, looking way down on rivers that seem really familiar but I'm sure they don't exist.
Something's chasing me. Feels like something's wrong. Feels like I'll never get home. Sometimes I think I'll be lost forever.