My skin burns from the heat of the season.
Sweat drips down my face.
Flies chew on my flesh.
Ants chew my ankles as I sit outside on my steps.
The pain of these pests fails in comparison to the deamons that slice and dice my soul.
Life seems to be improving for me...but with my new found happiness comes new doorways of choices...that most always lead to rooms of pure torture.
My abs are ripped. I can see it in the mirror. The handicapped man at my job even thinks so. So many hours of creation went into them. Yet, each minute would be gladly traded in for just one chance to do it all over again.
My air conditioner is fully working. My windows fully close. My bed is actually made. There is no more dirt on my floor. No more little black bugs crawling under the trash by my cd collection.
Nightime is coming soon. Moon light will soon light up the streets. Chitter chatter from the metro station will soon be replaced by the noise of my neighbors dumb televison which I can hear through the walls. City streets and faded newspapers seem to occupy my mind for some reason. The hum of my electronics in my tv area will soothe me to sleep...yet at the same time I know that these gizmos and gadgets are no substitute for whats missing in my life.
I need a balance.
I need a foundation onto which I can balance.
I just need a way.
Why is this thread no longer a sticky?
Poetry of this caliber is too important to be lost in the depths of the Z Board 
thank u
