You are lying in your bed at four in the morning and you still can't fall asleep
because of the acid you dropped a few hours ago. Your extremities
ache and burn from the brutal tension of being wired, and there is no place in you that
does not echo the despair of youth.—
This blackness rises within me like perpetual midnight skies;—
Copyright © 2002 D.E. Willer. All rights reserved.