you're a lipstick-shade away from dead

in the final balance

you've spent too much time obsessing

over a pixel

and you're missing the bigger picture

men are tragically curious dogs

full of appetite

and bark

and once in a while clever

but rarely so loyal

so now what?

who are you carrying all those bricks for?

self pity is almost cute when you mean it

but when you mean it for too long

it smells of stale milk and vinegar

who's arms are going to hold you

tonight?

the dreaded reflections of the past

or the potentially glorious possibility

of a better time at bat?

cheer up

sooner or later you're going to have to

put those bricks down

there's no better way to rebuild