she speaks quickly. seeming to deliberately avoid pronunciation of each syllable, inable to sound-out-words. verbally.
everything is in her mind. the best way out is on paper. or, keyboard.
she's a mess. and a disaster.
life was a straight path for a moment. no bumps, cracks...
now it seems she's approached a huge, menacing STOP SIGN.
after the sign, there's a gap in the road. gaping wide open and disturbingly inviting.
to the fall.
who is she? where is she going? when will this end?
there's a justification to every fuck-up, every mistake.
i know what i'm doing, i just don't know how to stop.