Too much of me is like a sugar OD.  Your stomach aches, your head throbs from the inside out, and your only choice, the only thing you want to do is sleep it off.  Carve little pieces of me out.  Here I am, and anything valid about this warped frame is what you left behind.  Breathe another fragment of my existence in each second, and I don't know how you live without it anymore.  So I'm working with this rough edge, and I'm smoothing out the corners.  I need to erase all of your complications.  Need to simplify all of these shadows and run through the echos until I reach that blank, blank space. I thought I'd cut you down to size before you leaped out of my heart again.  I'm diluting the substance that made you up.