Shiny Wrestling Singlet

At a time now.

Lately I'm too skeptical, intolerant, and a vehement and stubborn passion for chocolate at night. I confess, too, I forget easily how to start writing, I'm afraid of the blank page, which does not escape the repeated syllables in autumn unfinished ...
I puzzle too heavy skin, hair copper, cold hands, thirst, and cravings after the hour of squash soup. A while now I must be frank in the mirror, say hello without mincing words, and break the spell on Sunday afternoon ... when it seems that the house is shrinking more and more and more ... to compress the lungs (and daunted). I guess
not have much sense that I write this, I said ... I forget easily. But I weigh-up pop-mouth tibia and half-hearted, broken foot, ragged shirt, and the desire to mourn until the cows.