im angry. so what.

occasional attacks on the nervous system of the romantics.

i am down and feeling alone because i am so.
nothing to feel except what is near my naked skin. nothing.
yet i smile.

nothing, on my vocabulary, means everything.
the moment is mine.
and not with another human flesh i hunt for gaiety.

yet the wind blows hard on me.
if this is what i want, why do i want to escape?