red-handedly overwhelmed

And when it first hits, as the initial bite passes along and makes its way into your stomach…

You know its nowhere near the only feeling or emotion you have:

 at that exact moment, the moments before and the moments that have yet to arrive…

but they will. You know.


Suddenly there seems to be a lack of place… the spaces inbetween shrink, the air inside and out doesn’t flow quite the same anymore… your breathing… but you’re always made aware as each passing breath takes that much more effort and at the same time loses that much more comfort of which it normally would increase.


You watch as it depletes… and you know and you see how your belly grows…

in a moment you are taken away from it to be brought only to the attention of a seemingly possible question to ask, yet alone to answer.


and if you’re lucky enough to get past that one you know theres another one to follow directly after…

“how” … to change this….

“what”… do you even want anyway…


each question leaving you feeling alittle more confused and ever so much more pathetic,

and yet as you turn your head and forget completely …

in that moment you see the sun…

and again you wonder why…this time a little more… this time with a feeling that much more stupid and pathetic.


And so your tough exterior pulls that much thinner… your skin begins to feel the heat… your blood turns cold

but your not a serpant… its not even a pleasure… its not even helpful.


There comes a day the branches reach so far out they reach another body in your dwelling space… they are not serpants either…

yet in this serpant-like feeling, they seem to find the norm…

the same environment, one to which you feel ever so foreign… ever so unreal.


And so the cycle begins again… with passing time, another skin is shed, another road to be your bed…



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