sick for something his day is shaded beneath heavy eye lids and a sky swarming with remote control planes painted in primary colors there is a hole in his heart and he fills it with homemade saline solution with hands in pockets deep to dig down within himself to see if that is where he has been hiding his hair frazzled and head down to find that the sidewalk lines hold the same tone of gray as the stones in his eyes "is this a weakness ?" he wonders as the grip of it feels like he's in a squeezing giant's palm that could easily be the skyscrapers on each side of the street but he doesnt think so because today the reason is obvious because it's not there where it was just yesterday
Don't be a mouse, be a lion
