In Thirty Days.

In thirty days I've seen the world turn in places tossing around my earlier wishes in disarray. 30-days of newfound expectations trampled under feet of feral machinations. The old man's hold on the new flesh tightens.

My Space.

Laying around waiting. I fear it ended without me.
Lovely time spending, a subtle amount of cash waiting.
I didn't want to let you see me playing around the tables, admiring the other gals in waiting. Where is it going if not into my pocket, the unused rubber melting? I don't think it is making any more sense than you expected.