How do I be cryptic about this? Every word that spills out of my mouth is screaming blatant, harsh truth. Angry syllables and raging clauses. How could you ever put the funny and joyous back into your throat? It's like you've swallowed a miracle lozenge of numbing power. Instead of coating your red tonsils with a lemony cure, you've burnt the hurt out of you with acid. 

On the other hand my pills for the night are becoming weaker. The stars are alive for longer and so is being in stasis. Blank eyes, open mouth, perpetually choked throat. Throw me a rope please. I'll put it around my neck and you can pull me out of this pit. 

It's difficult to lean on yourself. 

If you haven't done it in a long time your muscles have atrophied 

Your legs will be wobbly 

The unfortunate thing is before you let yourself get stronger 

You'll have decided, 

See? It can't be done.