Kicking my slow way to a dusty death and all that. Underscore echo of my heels. It would be nice if there were someone following me home.
Temperature dropped, rubbing arms only does so much. Why's it got to be so cold? Why am I so cold all the time? Am I being too dramatic? Probably.
It's hard to say something. Hard to say what you want so you end up saying what's right. Tolerance can only get a man so far. An obliging smile, an obligation. I understand, of course I understand. I understand that that's what I'm supposed to say. And the whole life left I'll be wondering why.
It's going to get colder this week. Then it'll warm up again. Then the days get longer, and get shorter, and here I'll be, and there's everyone else, and we're all walking the same path.
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