Brains!

You could not have hurt that much if you did not love that much.
I feel like I can hardly focus on anything, I cant even read a page of a book without my thoughts wandering off the page and walking off the edge of my desk into the wastebasket.
Dreams of weathered hands and brown skin, salt all over me, like glazed donuts.
Old nuisances still there, a hair on my head I keep flattening.
Damn you.
Damn me.
Screw it, yet the future keeps coming and I am stifling it. All I have to do is fall off the cliff, tip over the edge once again. But I will not come tumbling down like a waterfall, the cup is less then half full, the milk is Luke-warm at the end.