I’m just beat. I can’t anymore. Not right now.

I’m falling though a rosebush. Rose red, petals sweet as a symphony. Slivering through the endless vine without any clear ending. Falling falling, getting caught by the lovely aroma of the damn thing itself or at least what I’m making of it. Blurs and spurs, ruby red in the sun. I don’t know what it is anymore though, of myself or the buds that brought me here in the first place. My infinite curiosity is making this seem as infinite as anything else. Laughing at the tangle seems tangible, shit I even believe it myself. But that other thing is there. It’s knocking me around and slicing at me, those gaffs. At least they’re honest. I’ll come out of this less than I started, that’s for sure.