Inconsistency.
2002-08-20, 12:31 p.m.
Every time the scenery changes,
the faces change...
I change.
Inconsistency in my words,
in my thoughts...
Inconsistency in the walls
and the words hurled upon them,
the product of long, thick nights
in sweaty, tangled sheets...
She whispered, "I'll always be your constant",
But that changed, too...
the moment I lost her gaze,
Lost myself.
I will always be a product of the scenery,
a product of the people around me...
Sucked into the masses.
Spit out...
Dirty.
Crying.
Alone.
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