I’ve waited the anticipation drilling into my skin black holes of want. Addiction bleeds blue-brown beneath the surface blooming into a bruise fading into a dull ache sharp at the touching point. Loneliness obsession tattooed onto me. I am addicted to this solitude. To free myself from this increasingly inescapable emotional meth I open myself slowly the unfurling of a plant to more physical addiction, I do it with reluctant enthusiasm just to find my voice again. Just to remember how to laugh how to reach back.