I am and You are in excess. Over the brim. You contaminate my everything leaving your burning dirty stain on it all. Tabula rasa obsolete this disdain this soul not even half complete feeds my anger until I stretch and twist until I block your way. In excess we concede and recede taking turns in this our intertwined destiny. Spilled drink. Broken shards of glass reflecting half- rainbows and stabbing me until I bleed inevitably to my last drop of watered sanity... In excess-ed.


“…there is one thing which can stitch and hold the wound…” M.Z. Danielewski