The gittery garble of remenant nights, the left over stain for a miriad of insight An arms reach away from conscious abduction, the poison is secure as it begins its deconstruction. The helplessly strung individual lain in wait for his body to pass through this tight roped escape. 

His balance has bounced and the landing isn't clear but for some simple reason there is nothing he fears. 

I wander day after day through the same repetitive patterns, finding myself longing for self-detatchment. Each days the same unless I burden my head with intricacies of this existance. My actions become self-defeating and the cycle that I repel against becomes my new enemy

Bent with the delusion of just another day.