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Full to the tip, I am walking the thin line between sanity and the abyss. All of the thoughts fill my head, congesting my chest, suffocating my heart. Relative, are the words tumbling from my lips. What makes us young will be our pain when we're old. I find a clover, with no leaves, with no roots, underneath my pillow. Can we symbolize ourselves? I want to sink into you. Deeply. Completely. Until I no longer have eyes, until I no longer hear sound, until I decompose. When I find hell, I'll know that paradise exists. But this isn't hell. No. This is that place in the grocery store that no one really goes to. Where it's dusty and lonely, because the merchandise perched on the shelves is unfavorable and almost useless. Maybe I'll find you here, but I would more likely find you in the frozen food section. Steady is the ground underneath my feet. Heavy is the sky above me. I forgot why I came here.