I had it good when I was blind.
now I worry all the time. my life makes me sick and sometimes I wonder if maybe I could just peel it off, tug at the icy layer, and let it out to dry.
maybe it will make amends, figure it's shit out, and come back to find me.
fitting me perfectly like a glove.
I was moderately collapsing, the puncture in my heart turning into a serious wound, a vein just starting to hemorrhage as if suffering is all I will ever be.