Though the sketch is getting old now, the cracks don't show.

the fan in my room rings harmonic
the hand in front of me pauses
mind rolls on
how tempting lately, how terrible
how benign it all seemed in retrospect.
watch the lights flicker in instrumental giddiness.
grinning skulls stare cold judgemental
the earth vibrates just so i can feel
feel i do, too much
close drooping lids catch a moment
perfection in a ten-minute song.
in a twitch it all vanishes
but here i sit.
alone bombarded
alone where i should be sleeping
and cant
run a hand over this cold body
wishing its ridges were more defined

maybe it's me that's changed.

sit by myself, sad morning
try to make sense of my life
my page is marred by a previous years indentation
try to caffienate: wake up
have to score, music for a movie, have two weeks
no spare time as is
-in the city, oh oh
wish i could hibernate
shut this all off for a few months
dodge the snow and holiday season
how have i changed? why?
have i lost or gained?
the day: haze of sorrow.
feel like painting a wall, screaming out to the morass
don't really want an answer,
just for it to be known that my spirit withers