Further away, you slip into your childhood. Beside yourself with fear, happiness is a relic. The days pass with reluctant uncertainty. Each one a wasted opportunity. The window to your future is boarded shut. Nailed. Hide away, disappear in the rain. Disappear in words. Close your eyes and picture yourself on a beach. Windswept and empty, the waves call to you as you stand there wishing to be submerged. The past and future dance together, the present a stasis. Cracked flesh and weary eyes, the absence of lullabies. All is purgatory, everything is tasteless. Tiredness and melancholy, irritable and indifferent. Irregular and ill. To sleep, to return to darkness. Swimming in nothingness. Breathe and repeat as love rains down. It’s raining in your heart. There’s a storm brewing, you can feel it on the nape of your neck. The early morning hours, they bring comfort, and they bring despair. You’re alone, just how you like it. Yet there’s no one to share your harmony with. It’s so fucking funny, but really it’s not.