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Im wounded and watched as the blood from my third rrib down on the left hand side evicerate and clot. It was like watching my feelings leak from my soul and complete consume me. I was a robot -- fixed with mechanical lights and whirring sounds.
I was repeating the same messages I said the day before and never made a goal to love you. Loving you s a verb, an action verb that requires action and I was on the sidelines, head down and spewing in my own pity.
I was wounded. I knew it and didnt have the courage to do anythingn about it. Just let it fester and promote itself from the mail room to CEO. I was king of a castle built on sand sitting in an hourglass.
