like the breeze-gales of summer, I've returned with startling quickness.
it's not beauty, but pain - serenity - that drives our world. Ads a writer, how can i communicate the heart-wrenching truth? when i can't even say my name without pause?
this (among others) are the question(s) that turn, turn, restlessly in my mind.
the problem i see before me, now:
drinking helps me sleep.
the booze helps me speak
but it slowly kills,
kills so slow.
what do i do now?
i wish i could say,
but for now,
i'm young
resistant
and vivid
-marcus
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