birdmad heavy-eyed and lonely

the hypnotic hum of the fan and the faint melody of the radio on low volume

the glass of water on my nightstand and the the faint red glow of the LED clock

old injury left untreated, twitches in anticipation of the storm clouds that line the horizon in all directions, kept at bay by the relentless radiant heat of the city

it's nearly 2:00 am here now, i should be asleep already, another day at the office ahead of me.

if only i didn't have to dream
what's it to you?
who go