Relapse

A relapse of forgotten realities. Different words, but the numbers remain the same.

Always crunching, munching, chewing their way into the sleep I've so recently discovered.

Exhaustion is a blanket of decimal points and brand new lingo. Foreign words dance on this foreign tongue. I have never felt so small and overwhelmed.

I will do this. I will do it well. I always do.

But what price will I pay?

A constant drive I thought I had beaten.

An insane call to produce.

Where is the poetry in production? Where do you find the song in the constant white noise?

How do I quite my mind 

To find

The only thing that's ever saved me?

NH

2013