Like Frosts woods it's lovely, dark and deep, and now I ponder if Frost had something in common with me, for I have my word to keep, which is ever more difficult on short sleep, it's my addiction, my addiction I hate, yet love, makes me weep, all the color in the woods, sucked out and seeped, like a best friend who is more like your worst, anything good gone, like it never even had been, like a giant...