There Was A Level On Which I

I Have Already Lost Touch With A Couple Of People I Used To Be

When The Ground Starts Moving, All Bets Are Off.

There Was A Level On Which I Believed That What Had Happened Remained Reversible

That No One Dies Of Migraine Seems, To Someone Deep Into An Attack, An Ambiguous Blessing.

I Was Relying On A Kind Of Natural Transition - The Transitions Made By Someone Who Is Slightly Deranged.