I am not well—this deadly trail that only the hellhounds can smell. They are hot on my tail as I transverse the boundaries you have set—friend. I languish in this lonely place--the space between my fears. A cheap seat and at my feet the dry tears of a thousand drunken nights missing you. The show of all shows and I can’t even see the fiery stage from here. I wonder if you can see me from down there or if you’re too busy sharpening your horns to look…