Skinny light

Thoughts so dry and barren, a trail of sour taste clouds my ideas and leaves me thoughtless, flatlined. Such a hectic mind, edging soul and yet today everything is cold and quiet, like the autumn outside, empty and dirty. Why can't the echo say "it's over..move on to what lies ahead", why the line of past crumbs has to be so vivid and true? Can we dance with our past and still be able to walk through the future?
My present feels like a border line that keeps me from disappearing into the past and crawling into the future, a dead space, a crippled place, a hellish pain from deep beyond that slowly pins me down. I come from nowhere and walk head down to "anywhere's land" like a cute child that's only allowed to entertain, to amuse. And I love that hammered pain, 'cause it feels that good when it finally stops. I color and color the darkness around me to no use...my rain, soundless, my sun, darkened, my air, hollow...my all, nothing...