Oslo, 1990 from Point Hope by Glowing

Late at night I feel an overwhelming wave of dread blanket me as I lie in bed, the night air drifting through the subconscious windows of my mind, taking a hold of my broken face and diving further into the depths of my eyes, overtly grazing over any risk of consequential error. I’m who I don’t want to be. I’m who I don’t want to become. I’m constantly drowning in failed ambitions and hope. This life will be the death of me.

The sting of the pacific air made my hair unaware of the consequences of taking a break from being attached to my skull. This life will be the death of me.

Lying in my room, teasing myself with air as the life is choked out of me. Excuses of why I can’t go out. Reasons I can’t see you tonight. I’ll never be home again.

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