I’m Forty Years Old! Why am I up this late?
I slept all day, stayed up all night.
Why I feel my body cold? For Pete’s sake!
Dreaming new ways, for all of us to fight.
Till we die. What else is there to hate? Why does it even matter?
I’m rambling.
Gambling.
Up all night.
My health is questionable.
I got here with my sins.
I’m barely tolerable.
More so by myself within.
Listening to Hunger Strike.
Vedder and Cornell.
Gave away half a melon ripe.
Feeling better but unwell.
Salty and bitter.
Yet savory and sweet.
Hearing the critters.
On my playlist and tweets.
With my eyes, too blurry to fall asleep.
I will listen when you reply.
Rock it and weep.
I’ll go to sleep. Or at least, I will try.
Sign up to my email list. My name is Glenn.