I felt it coming on a while ago.
The flows change, the pressure mounts.
A few items of detritous float to the surface, I open a bag.
It smells of her, mus and spice.

The stuff I've been walling for three months, behind Chiverly, Action and Rot.
It begins to seep out.

It must of shown because without instigation that I can see, she cut a tie.

Floating free, I suppose it's meant to help me "get over it" at a steadier pace, all I feel is hollow.

The counter point and kin fades in the distance to my paranoid fantasies and merry travels.

I need to distract myself. I need to breath.
I feel like more.