Another day without words. Another night without love. Another minute spent pondering. Another second lost waiting. Another breath without feeling. And another tick of the heart to remind myself, “What are you beating for?” Hope, my friends. Hope. But sometimes this life feels like a pipe dream, and I’m the star in my own dying montage. My only wish is for no edits. No cut and paste. I’m living by gut reaction and instinct. Raw and jolted beauty. Take off your lustful goggles. Get rid of the resumé. Lose your comments of similarity. See me. See me. And still, my existence continues to be syphoned.