It's a Bit

It's a bit like the damage builds up at the ends of my hair at the same
pace as in the core of my being because I stretch myself out until I am
weathered beyond recognition. I have a bad habit of becoming my own
casualty before I save my damsel with a sword and calm her from the
tower with words and perhaps the tiniest inkling of bribery. The
trenches etched in my palms tell my past more than my future which will
hopefully spin outwards and touch each bit of everything jammed in the
corners of my great noggin, which has always been the money-maker in my
life. But what about your life? These pixels can't tell me your
drop-shadow feelings I crave. I need to fix more than know.