by Tomorrow's Man
October 06, 2003
As tension increases, the cogs in my shoulders turn; the piano wires that run from my shoulders to my fingers tighten. My fingers consciously resist curling up from the pressure. My wrists pay for the battle between my shoulders and my fingertips by feeling almost a sense of suffocation; of pressure like The Bends, like they are desperate to burst from my body.
This is not a dream.