I catch myself looking in the mirror.
The tired eyes hiding behind long hair.
Who is there?
Stranger.
Eyes weary beyond their time,
soul leaking fluid
and the pitter patter
of broken relationships.
What is this?
Traitor.
Uncut stubble,
bleeding scrapes on forehead
prizes of a night life
untold quests of thirst.
The ache in my head
is only matched
by the hunger of my spirit.
The thirst in my throat
only matched
by the need of my spirit.
Twilight falling,
darkness is coming soon.
Hope abounding
despite the screaming
and the aching.
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