function raze i pieced a poem together inside my mind. something about dreams and what happens to me when i'm walking on a wire, belly burdened with unbridled desire. i wrote it in invisible_ink. i set it aside. and when i plucked that page from the psychic shelf stamped "ideas i'm sure i won't forget", every word it wore when the day wasn't dark enough to leave a mark was gone. i should know better by now than to leave these things to chance. the brain is built to break and go on breaking, boundless in its ability to absorb punishment while working overtime to reroute and reconsider and reverse world-ending damage. any machine forced to feel its way through so much madness would self-destruct. and yet we endure. i must make these words of mine sharp enough to scar. hold my heated tongue so when our teeth touch you can taste the char. only then will i stand a chance of keeping close all that wants to weigh me down. 260127 what's it to you? who go blather from