1:27 a.m. - June 20, 2012
Profile Broken
The profile continues and it grinds, grinds down. Deeper down, now the sinew, who knew you could turn out so much mildew? The boils on the flesh tell a tale so fast forgotten. Pieces of the profile, you are the profile without a name. That makes you the same as the profile. Only on those moments of complete night are you able to look inside--you used to run so wild. Wake, awake but not enough, you couldn't even run a mile. Into the profile, give me sedatives to numb desire. Make me grind myself to the ground. Wish I had gun...

Fatalities mean nothing, expirations, smudges on the surface. Deep within lies the dying muscle, collapsing upon itself. The grind continues...

You are not truly the profile. You can leave it whenever, but do it now. Later on it gets harder to walk away from a life-time full of habits. The profile, suits you well, you wear it like no other, but it wears you better--beware! The grind awaits for you! It will fight back, until the bones are swallowed. Not before your soul is hallowed, not until you wallow! Update your profile...