speechless. words like kites, floating and unimportant. joy surrounding like music but with no air in my lungs there is no song to speak of on my lips. if i slept through a thousand days and nights nothing would change but the rent i am owing? am i turning into overcast? have i been leaking? oh, what a luxurious wail to swallow and ooze. we both can agree it is gross, it is me, and if i was to drop on my head in a forest, then i would make a sound, certainly. to lure in the earthworms, to make me their feast. let them toast in delight to the delicious rot that has dropped onto their dirt and dust-filled plates. just let them indulge, let them eat me, for the best parts have already left to wander the dark beyond the sky.