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I hit a dead end today. No sirens, no flashing lights—just a flat, unblinking fact. The road stopped, and so did I. You get to a dead end one of two ways. Sometimes you see it coming, the signs piling up like cracked pavement, and you still drive toward it, half-curious, half-resigned. Other times it
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they fed me words like stale crackers through a chain-link fence while I pissed in the gutter and called it love messages at 2 a.m. “u up?” and I’d crawl through broken glass to read them like the dog I was cheap vodka and cheaper promises that’s all they gave while I sat
BB Grey--musings 