i cant sleep.
i mean, ok, i was asleep for 4 whole hours and woke up to sneezing and a burning throat, but ....
just lately....
lately you cause my mind to race and not at all in the good way.
i mean, ok, i was asleep for 4 whole hours and woke up to sneezing and a burning throat, but ....
just lately....
lately you cause my mind to race and not at all in the good way.
lately i can't stop thinking of my blind stupidity.
lately i cant stop imagining your smug and vacant glare....
your faux-furrowed brown of discontent.
lately i cant stop imagining your smug and vacant glare....
your faux-furrowed brown of discontent.
how my words just ricocheted off of your cold and calloused heart and like pointed arrows, came back and pierced my warm flesh.
your curt and brief words like daggers in your palm easing themselves gently beneath my shoulder blade tearing a seamless line down my back.
how carefully and gently you ease it downward.
you whisper "shhhh...." while i gasp in the horrified shock.
your curt and brief words like daggers in your palm easing themselves gently beneath my shoulder blade tearing a seamless line down my back.
how carefully and gently you ease it downward.
you whisper "shhhh...." while i gasp in the horrified shock.
and then i gasp for air.
i claw at the water above my head like a panicked woman drowning.
i fight and i climb in a desperate attempt to find some source of life.
i claw at the water above my head like a panicked woman drowning.
i fight and i climb in a desperate attempt to find some source of life.
i lie on cold concrete, gravel beneath my fingertips.
i lie on cold concrete, tracing the grooves of the pavement finding eloquent patterns and hoping for some cryptic message etched in stone.
i search for the words that everything is going to be alright.
i scour my findings for the urban legend of the girl who got back up.
i lie on cold concrete, tracing the grooves of the pavement finding eloquent patterns and hoping for some cryptic message etched in stone.
i search for the words that everything is going to be alright.
i scour my findings for the urban legend of the girl who got back up.
why am i down here? i find myself wondering aloud.
why do i even care?
there is salve for the wound in my back.
there are sutures to mend my lacerations.
there is nothing to ease my fall but there is so much to help me back up.
why am i still down here? i find myself wondering aloud.
why do i even care?
why do i even care?
there is salve for the wound in my back.
there are sutures to mend my lacerations.
there is nothing to ease my fall but there is so much to help me back up.
why am i still down here? i find myself wondering aloud.
why do i even care?
you are one of many.
you are one of many but i am rare.
covered in scars and bruises, i have stories.
each scar represents one of your kind that has been so reckless and cruel.
you are one of many but i am rare.
covered in scars and bruises, i have stories.
each scar represents one of your kind that has been so reckless and cruel.
you are a lemming.
in the end you will plummet to your fate and hit the uncomfortable bottom.
you will find yourself on this same, cold concrete tracing grooves in the pavement searching for some hopeful message etched in stone.
you are a lemming for today still.
a lemming with a mouth full of arrows and your faux-furrowed brow of discontent.
in the end you will plummet to your fate and hit the uncomfortable bottom.
you will find yourself on this same, cold concrete tracing grooves in the pavement searching for some hopeful message etched in stone.
you are a lemming for today still.
a lemming with a mouth full of arrows and your faux-furrowed brow of discontent.
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