It only feels worse when I stay in one place, so I’m always pacing around or walking away. You’ll be free, child, once you have died, from the shackles of language and measurable time. And then we can trade places, play musical graves – ’til then, walk away.
So I’m up at dawn, putting on my shoes. I just want to make a clean escape – I’m leaving but I don’t know where to. I know I’m leaving, but I don’t know where to.