Sid Sriram Instagram – Hotel room pens, the one’s that have some weight to em Head heavy with unanswered phone calls, angst in excess and rising temperature 33 is supposed to be the year where peace makes its way into the fabric of a man’s soul When I fall, I fall Narrow vortexes transform into massive, sprawling spaces I always keep my phone on do not disturb Big old chip on my shoulder I don’t even try and shake it off anymore, it’s a permanent fixture Gorgeous crystal chandelier Just waiting to come crashing down Maybe I could pick up the pieces, put em back together to make something new A little less ornate, a little more raw Might get tiny cuts on my fingers along the way but maybe they’ll glow And lead me thru the tunnel back to you, back to me