928.

The fired synapse
of burnt-out intentions. This
is your heart on love.

927.

A secret treasure
for the self-medicated.
Steady addiction.

926.

Still left to just its
catalogue across a screen.
Empty therapy.

925.

An emotional
stunting, weary of its
unfinished edges.

924.

Amazing how much
the older I get, the more
retarded I feel.

923.

A breakup of the
soul within. Yet more messy
cliches wrapped in meh.

922.

A weary showdown
between mind and heart even
when housed together.