I seem to big, size wise, for the world
The hotness of the room is dry and cozy to me in my sweater
The balconies form into jaws that gape at me
Must not go there
I seem to have some kind of sandpaper under my skin
It is wrong but what is it
Things used to be better then
Must not go there
If only things were different
I remember when things were better
Must not go there
March 2008
