– so feed yourself – ,
But you know what I need instead?
My hand to my heart and a gun to my head,
No fear, just a rumble growing louder,
In the tunnel of my belly,
Kick-starting the engine into gear,
Fist to cuff, I roll up my sleeves,
Wipe the beads of sweat from my dry mouth,
There’s trouble in my brain this time,
I induce vomiting,
No longer flying high.