mind be racing.

were all tortured souls.

sat out in the rain to dry.

a figure of speech,

dirt in the eye.

a blind, blacked out drunk night.

but did i feel?

did i see?

could you really be the one that was supposed to compete me?

another half of this dirty heart.

to clean it up,

a brand new start?

questions, and answers

come slowly in this heat

sweat beads down my neck

as i try to breath.
i think i’ll just sleep.